


I Am Not A Nobody

by panda_shi



Category: Naruto
Genre: Adoption, Anbu Hatake Kakashi, Anbu Yamato | Tenzou, Blood and Violence, Character Study, Crushes, Cute, Eventual Romance, Falling In Love, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Graphic Description, Growing Up, M/M, Mother-Son Relationship, Post-Naruto Time Skip | Naruto Shippuden, Pre-Canon, Pre-Naruto Canon Era, Silly, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:01:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27147712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panda_shi/pseuds/panda_shi
Summary: Tenzou is fourteen when Tsunade decides to adopt him.(Or that story about how Tenzou learns to be human and experience the small everyday things like family, friendship, and even love.)
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi & Yamato | Tenzou, Hatake Kakashi/Yamato | Tenzou, Umino Iruka & Yamato | Tenzou, Umino Iruka/Yamato | Tenzou, Yamato | Tenzou & Tsunade
Comments: 70
Kudos: 129





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Self-beta'd - might have missed stuff.
> 
> Read a prompt at @sloaners (tumblr) anon or a comment in one of their posts (fantastic art btw go check it out!) about Tsunade adopting a bb-Tenzou and well. My initial post in tumblr stated that I wasn't sure where I was going with it, but now I have an idea so I'm continuing this.

Names have power, they say.

Tenzou can agree to a certain point because his experience from his missions, his targets, countless reconnaissance on high profile politicians has proven that people tend to cower from the syllables of a name if they are a threat.

Names carry prestige more than just an identity. Names give history, are the pillars for legacy provided it is a name the people can accept. More often than not, it is a vessel for fear, control, sometimes even politics.

They’re also a convenient excuse for people to either sing with high praise or forget because the truth is always a pill too hard to swallow.

Sometimes it lies ignored despite its great sacrifice to stop a rampaging monster, when the womb still bleeds fresh and a goodbye too soon falls from crimson lips. It is ignored because it is easier to hate someone helpless than to acknowledge a name that saved everyone.

Sometimes it is indifferent, distant, as cold as the unreadable, white irises of its clansmen.

Sometimes it lies abandoned, walls cracking, dust collecting over blood stained tatami mats where the weight of shame fueled enough strength to slice through flesh. Shame because of a choice to save one’s comrades as opposed to prioritizing the mission.

Sometimes it is soaking in blood, whispers of its massacre echoing loud, and towards the end of it, the word traitor.

And sometimes, they’re just old, only remembered through history that is a core subject within the Academy walls, a prerequisite in terms of knowledge for every Konoha shinobi. They’re faded, scattered, heirless, visually only present through the carvings of stone that towers over the village.

Tenzou is conditioned to not pay any heed to something as trivial as a name. Not when he’s been conditioned, trained extremely well, that the only thing that matters is servitude to the village. That the name Konoha is the only thing of true value.

Greater people have sacrificed themselves for the good of village and now, yet their heir wanders Konoha’s walls shunned, sneered, hated, ignored. Their names hardly mattered in the present – it’s like the Yellow Flash only exists as a tier to be achieved in terms of talent, hard work and mission success but nothing else. As if the man behind the legacy hardly existed.

Legacy means nothing, Tenzou realizes, in the grand scheme of things.

When you die, you just die.

It’s okay to die nameless.

*

Tenzou hears about Tsunade’s arrival tucked behind the cover of an open locker door. Apparently, Tsunade-hime is in the village for a visit. And like always, she has spent her first day sitting with her former sensei, having tea until she had flung the table across the room, out the window in a fit of uncontrolled, roiling rage.

“I think it’s because Sandaime is asking her to stay,” one fellow ANBU says.

“No, it’s got something to do with her gambling debt for sure,” another says.

“Monkey says it has something to do with the council pressuring her to produce an heir,” a softer voice says.

“I thought she couldn’t?”

“Or she doesn’t want to?”

The conversation explodes, only coming to a sudden stop when the sound of a door opening puts a halt on the outright gossip that Tenzou shamefully has been eavesdropping on. Someone dares throw a table out the window in front of the Hokage? And the Hokage does nothing? Tenzou thinks back to Danzou and Root – if any of them dared show such insubordination, that would mean at least half a day’s worth of lashings under the scorching sun and then dry fasting isolation for thirty-six hours. Not many tend to survive that but that would just mean they’re too weak to remain in Root, anyway.

“Don’t you guys have better things to do?” Kakashi’s voice cuts through with a drawl. It is followed by a series of locker doors shutting, rapid shuffling and then silence. “Oi, Tenzou. The Hokage needs you.”

Tenzou straightens, tugging his clean armor on and running a comb through his damp hair. He slams his locker shut and gives his senpai a wordless nod, acknowledging the summon.

*

A summon that suddenly renders him not so nameless anymore, apparently.

Tsunade is a towering figure, heals almost five inches high, back straight, eyebrows narrowed, hands on her hisp and staring down at him like he’s a two year old. A lesser shinobi would certainly feel like a child in the presence of Tsunade's aura.

“How old are you?”

“Fourteen,” Tenzou responds, keeping perfectly still. He isn’t intimidated by Tsunade’s persona. He’s just feeling a little too awkward because if Tsunade leaned any closer to examine him, her breasts would be ten centimetres too close to his face to be called professional, let alone proper.

“You are awfully small for a fourteen year old,” Tsunade tartly says, almost disappointed.

“I am a hundred and twenty nine and a half centimetres,” Tenzou agrees, well aware of how stunted his growth is. Danzou always factored his slow growth to the radiation and chemical exposure, a side effect to the experimentation Tenzou miraculously survived. But small doesn’t mean weak, Danzou had said, one of the few times he had been encouraging.

“Do you even eat, boy?” Tsunade scoffs.

“Yes. Five meals a day when I am in the village, continuously supplemented by calorically dense ration bars that Danzou-sama advised to–”

“Hah! Which one – the one that tastes like sweet wet newspaper or the one that tastes like moldy bread?” Tsunade snorts.

Tenzou finds himself stammering a little, glancing a little cluelessly at the Sandaime who is taking a very, very long drag from his pipe. Tenzou’s mouth quickly clamps shut before he can voice out his confusion. He can’t honestly say he knows what moldy bread tastes like nor can he say he’s actually tried eating wet newspaper, let alone a sweetened one. So he goes with what he thinks is the correct response to this kind of inquiry. “The N-4150?”

“Sweet, wet newspaper. At least that old fart chose the better formula.” Tsunade rolls her eyes before taking - thank heavens - a proper step back.

Tenzou blinks once, altering between Tsunade's now very put-upon expression and the Sandaime who is standing there as if he were part of the book shelf. “Hokage-sama, should I not continue consuming the N-4150?”

Sandaime rumbles an amused noise, blowing out a slow stream of tobacco smoke before he stands, rounding the table. “Why don’t you demonstrate your Mokuton skills for Tsunade, Tenzou? After all, that is the reason you were summoned here.”

It gets another eyeroll, with a bit of a scoff from Tsunade, who crosses her arms under her breasts.

“Yes, Hokage-sama,” Tenzou acknowledges.

He puts his hands together, channels just enough chakra and forms a small pot in his hands, slowly filling it with roots coiling until it sprouts green leaves, topped with large, black centered white poppies.

“Oh, white poppies,” Sandaime smiles, his face wrinkling. “An interesting choice. You see, Tsunade, Tenzou here has been studying botany for a year now. He’s a bit of an artist with his gardening. Tenzou, didn’t you recently start studying architecture as well?”

“I have only started reading some reference books three months ago, Hokage-sama,” Tenzou responds, with a bit of a nod, as his fingers tightens a little bit around the pot in his hands, not quite sure what to do with his creation-demonstration.

“Hmmm,” Sandaime hums, a touch bemused before he brings his pipe back up to his lips. “Reminds you of someone, doesn’t it, Tsunade?”

Tenzou looks at Tsunade, who in a space of a heartbeat looks far too young in a show of vulnerability, as her throat bobs when she swallows. It gets washed away when he clicks her tongue and turns to look at Tenzou, giving him a once over.

“Well, no one fucks with grandfather’s DNA, gets away with it and then keep it from me. Had it been anyone else but Danzou, Root of all places, I wouldn’t take issue! When did you discover your Mokuton skills, boy?”

“A year before I graduated from the Academy.” Tenzou swallows. “I was five years old.”

“Nine years! With that creep!” Tsunade shouts.

Sandaime’s tobacco inhale had to be the longest one Tenzou has ever seen.

Sandaime exhales, responding with a sigh, “Better late than never, hmm?”

“Fine.” Tsunade grouches. “I’ll do it. Tenzou, you can call me Okaa-san when you’re ready.”

The pot drops from Tenzou’s hands.

“Eh?”

Tenzou thinks it’s a good response. Given the proverbial punch to the face he’s just received.

*

It’s not that Tenzou wants to say he cares much for the idea of family.

It’s more like he doesn’t quite know what to do with it.

(What does family even mean?)

So Tenzou, much like every other time he gets moved around like he’s no more than a potted plant, agrees.

Not like it really matters, right?

He thinks of it as just having another sort of… superior?

*

A superior that Tenzou apparently now gets to live with after all of those paperwork.

In a large, inherited estate, closed off, covered in wildly growing flora and fauna. The estate does not look like it’s been lived in for decades. There is damage from the growth of the vines, some of it poking through the tatami doors, and getting to the interior of the house. There are a few soda cans littered around the gate, some old, some new. Likely the result of dares from the younger crowd of Konoha.

The once heralded Senju estate that Hashirama and Tobirama and their families once resided in is now nothing more than a shadow of its former glory. Uncared for. Outdated. Obsolete.

“Well,” Tsunade huffs. “I haven’t seen this place in, hmm, ten years maybe? Maybe twelve? Tche, what a dump.”

Tsunade toes an old, faded orange soda can by her heel, kicking it further away.

Tenzou wishes he’s no more than a spore in the ground. Should he say something? He may be a Senju by name and by experimental DNA, but that doesn’t really make him a Senju- _Senju_.

It’s just circumstances.

“Well? What do you think, kid? You like the house?” Tsunade holds her hand out at the once upon a time regal grounds, now overgrown with weeds and littered with random junk.

Tenzou looks at the estate again and decides to go with the most diplomatically acceptable response there is in this case.

“It’s a lot bigger than my apartment,” Tenzou politely responds, as his eyes stray towards the patch of wildly rosary pea and oleander growing by the gate.

Tsunade’s booming laughter echoes throughout the entire compound, bemused and real. She doubles over, slapping a hand on her knee, her laugh tapering off to a bit of a wheeze. It almost sounds nervous. A little hysterical even.

Tenzou tilts his head to the side, staring up at this woman, this new mother of his, a legendary sannin, one of the most if not the best, medic there is in the country.

Would it be rude to ask her if she is okay?

“Kid,” Tsunade snorts, shaking her head, reaching out to ruffle Tenzou’s long hair. “I like your sense of humor. You and I are going to get along just fine.”

Tenzo is smart enough to not point out that he hadn't been trying to make joke, remaining still under the odd sensation of getting his hair ruffled. Its invasive yet oddly something else that isn't quite bad at the same time. How strange, for a negative thing to lean towards something positive.

*

Tsunade asks to see his apartment.

And then proceeds to wear what Tenzou can only assume is her analytical face. It’s peppered with a little judgment, too.

Tenzou’s current apartment is shoe-box in size, with enough space for a single bed, a small sectioned off wall by the door turned to a makeshift kitchen and a connecting bathroom that Tsunade, no doubt, will have to carefully manage her long limbs.

“You like it here?” Tsunade asks, her lips twisting at the sight of the old hotplate on the tiny kitchen counter.

“It serves its purpose.” Tenzou shrugs.

“That wasn’t my question,” Tsaunde prompts, turning that analytical gaze back to Tenzou.

Tenzou frowns, resisting the urge to reach up and rub the back of his head in partial confusion, partial irritation. It’s a comfortable space – what is she on about? Having an opinion on something as trivial as a living space serves no purpose in the betterment of Tenzou’s skills in the field. It has no correlation to his successful mission counts. Liking something or anything for that matter doesn’t make missions easier or harder, either.

Unsure of how to respond, Tenzou resorts to Danzou’s advice when it comes to undercover. If you’re caught in a tight spot, the easiest thing to slip out of attention is to either blend with your surroundings or mirror the person in front of you.

Tenzou goes for the mirror, sloping his eyebrows down the same way Tsunade is, relaxing his shoulder to what looks like a wary slump, canting his head just the tiniest bit to the side, and responds with what he hopes is a conclusion to this conversation, “It’s all right.”

Tsunade goes quiet for a while, before she sighs slowly and curses under her breath.

“Let’s try this again,” Tsunade sighs, gesticulating with her hand towards the entirety of the small apartment. “What do you think would make this space better suited for you? Take into consideration that you are also currently studying botany and architecture.”

Tenzou looks at the small stack of reference books he had borrowed from the public library, how he has to do most of his reading on the bed. If he had to sketch on drawing paper, he usually does so on the ceiling given the lack of floor space and a full flat wall that isn’t lined with bulging pipes or the windowsill, with the paper taped on the corners. Makes it easier for him to get on his knees and practice his pencil sketches.

"I don't have enough space for a desk. I usually practice my architecture drawings on the ceiling, upside-down. A desk would be useful?" Tenzou offers, feeling discombobulated at the fact that he's expressing an opinion. Or that it can be interpreted as a complaint (it certainly would in Root). It's not exactly a cause to complain about because Tenzou has figured out a way around the problem. But then, his new mother is asking for him to state what equates to a complaint. 

Tenzou idly wonders if it can also be called an observation. maybe he should have worded his sentence differently. His initial choice of words would have earned him punishment in the shape of having only half a meal portion for days in Root. 

Tenzou's purses his lips, waiting for Tsunade to answer. He is slipping; he will have to be careful with how he speak. Just because there's not one around to enforce his punishment, doesn't mean Tenzou has a free pass to just run his mouth like an ungrateful rat. 

“Then that’s something you should consider when you fix our house, hmm?”

Oh. So he’s fixing it.

Well.

Okay, then.

TBC


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Self-beta'd - might have missed stuff.
> 
> Read a prompt at @sloaners (tumblr) anon or a comment in one of their posts (fantastic art btw go check it out!) about Tsunade adopting a bb-Tenzou and well. My initial post in tumblr stated that I wasn't sure where I was going with it, but now I have an idea so I'm continuing this.

Tsunade-hime, Tenzou concludes, is indeed a very strange shinobi. 

She doesn’t move the way shinobis are trained to do, certainly not one that is hailed as one of the legendary sannin. She stomps her heels when she walks, like she’s announcing her presence. She has no qualms in raising her voice or making her distaste known. There is nothing soft or delicate about Tsunade, not in the way she speaks or the way her aura seems to fill the space where she stands. She is also extremely short tempered.

And apparently, it doesn’t take much to trigger that temper.

Tenzou’s breath is knocked out of his lungs when he witnesses that temper, triggered by a mere helpless patch of severely overgrown weeds and vines, its reach covering what had been an elegantly stone carved fountain piece in the middle of the courtyard. Tsunade lets out a frustrated cry, squats into position, grabs the edge of the fountain and hoists it all above her head, vines, roots, weeds and all, scaring a few insects out of their homes in the process. She _yells_ like she’s in the middle of battle, before the entire fountain piece sails across and above the gate, arching over Tenzou’s head before landing somewhere outside the property with a crash-thump. 

Tsunade’s enraged, flushed, heavy breathing continues to fill the space of the property, long after a bunch of birds has taken flight to the sky from the sudden flying fountain piece.

Tenzou isn’t quite sure what to do say or do in a scenario like this.

He’s never really witnessed anyone strong enough to lift an object that heavy as if it weighed nothing more than a grocery bag filled with two loaves of bread. He certainly never witnessed anyone in ANBU be able to throw such a heavy object at an impressive height and distance. 

It is quite inhuman, Tsunade’s strength that is. Along with her temper, if Tenzou is being honest. It's quite... beastly, isn't it?

“What?” Tsunade grouches, as she dusts her hands and places them on her hips, eyeing Tenzou up and down like he’s no bigger than a forest mouse.

He feels like a forest mouse too, simply standing there with a half filled garbage bag in his hand. When Tsunade said that they need to clean up the property first, Tenzou had assumed clean up means getting rid of the trash like normal people. Collecting the cans, the waste, paper and plastic and disposing of them properly. Throwing fountains over the high fence? Not part of his assumptions at all.

Tenzou swallows, staring down at his garbage bag and then at the spot where the fountain had flown over. “Nothing…”

“Were you attached to the fountain or something?” Tsunade asks, punctuating the question with a bit of an irritated huff.

Not wanting to fuel her irritation any further lest he gets thrown over the fence, Tenzou gives a clear headshake. “No.”

“Right? It was old, and ugly. I dunno about you but a swordfish fountain in the middle of the garden looks pretty tacky to me.” Tsunade stomps over towards the rotting footbridge over the slimy koi pond that is devoid of any living thing. “You finish clean up over there and I’ll get rid of this -- this ugh -- disgusting rotting bridge.”

And then, without much of an aplomb, Tsunade proceeds to _rip_ out the bridge with her bare hands too, sending a spray of mossy green water arching up into the air, and triggering a horrid stench that leaves her gagging, choking and swearing up a storm.

Tenzou remains mute in this display of strength and foul language, wondering what the hell did the Hokage get him into? 

*

It takes a few days to clean up the property. 

They manage to get rid of all the rotting wood and trash successfully, something they reduce to ash and little nibs of plastic by the end of it all. It’s extremely good progress, given the size of the property and the fact that there are only two pairs of hands working on said property. 

One morning, Tenzou shows up bright eyed and bushy tailed, two thick architecture reference books tucked under his slender arms to find that the pond that had been slimy the night before now gleams as clear as a crystal under the light of dawn. Some of the upheaving of old rotting wooden structures had left the land uneven, filled with holes and resembling an old, abandoned training post. It is this reason that Tenzou had decided to show up earlier than usual. He wants to get a head-start in levelling the land - which is the easiest to do - before Tsuande arrives.

He hopes to have everything levelled earlier than that though, if only because his technique in building structures is not too refined _yet_. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of Tsunade and risk triggering her temper. Tenzou really didn’t feel like being tossed over the gate. 

Or being tossed.

He is not a stuffed animal to be tossed.

Then again, he wonders if his speed, skills and strength will be enough to outrun Tsunade at the least. Tenzou pauses briefly as he sets the book down under an old, barren tree, picturing himself flying over the dense forest like a dung beetle, with nothing but gravity to aid his enforced flight. He imagines that landing through the dense tree tops would hurt. A lot. It’s hard to catch your balance if you’re crashing.

Tenzou shakes the thought of his head, refusing to be a victim to Tsunade the Deadly Exterminator of All Things She Finds Unpleasant.

He sucks in a deep breath, puts his hands together, channels enough chakra and in steady waves of control, starts to level out the land within the gated property. 

It takes him longer than normal, the area around the trees that he intends to save and rehabilitate with chakra sinking downwards at first. It takes a few tries to correct that mistake, along with a little bit of adjustment to go around the old roots and lift the ancient trees up from its sunken earth, but Tenzou manages. Root forces one to be a quick learner if not accomplished at adjusting to a situation at a drop of a hat. By the time the sun is clear and high in the sky, the property looks evenly covered in a healthy stretch of green grass, looking less abandoned and just a touch more lively.

Tenzou is quite proud of his work. Had it not been for the abandoned two-story structure in the center, one can almost convince themselves that they’re in the middle of a new public park. 

With still no sign of Tsunade, Tenzou decides to get to work on the footbridge. He is in the middle of weaving Mokuton in an intricate floral design that involves a tulip (a black, tulip, actually -- it seems to suit Tsunade quite well. She _is_ all power, strength and well, the supreme elegance is something Tenzou is yet to observe, but people say she’s elegant?) when a loud huff of amusement shatters his concentration. 

Mokuton shoots out and drops right into the pond, the wooden baluster he had been working on now resembling a python with its head in the water. Tenzou is quick to recover, like he didn’t just blunder at the sudden presence. Two heartbeats later, the mistake is rectified and there stands over the pond, a beautiful foot bridge resembling the one on the reference book by Tenzou’s knee. It’s a job well done, probably one of Tenzou’s more complicated attempts at design. It's quite picturesque with the clear pond and green grass, too.

He doesn’t get to celebrate his accomplishment however, the mood dampened by the fact that the towering, loud, voluptuous Tsunade managed to sneak up on him _and_ catch him off guard. When Tsunade is loud and not at all contained with her presence. The fact that she is able to sneak past Tenzou’s awareness speaks volumes.

Well. It’s not that Tenzou didn’t believe the heralded skills of the sannin in the first place. The title sannin isn't just handed over for free. 

His mood is further soured at the fact that he had judged and drawn a conclusive conclusion on Tsunade’s shinobi ability, or at least the stealth aspect of it. He further berates himself for reaching that conclusion because he has, more or less, committed the biggest mistake a shinobi in the field can ever dare commit: he underestimated his opponent.

Or well, okay, not an opponent.

But he underestimated!

An error like that on the field would mean failure. And failure, if anything is not acceptable.

Tenzou has to take a moment to turn and face Tsunade, reigning his thoughts in because no, that is not completely true. Sandaime is more tolerant of failure than Danzou ever was. Failure by Sandaime’s definition (and by extension, Kakashi’s definition) would mean loss of life. Loss of talent ergo a loss of the ANBU force would be a blow to Konoha if it keeps happening. And Konoha, if anything, cannot afford to be weak when it has only just gotten back to its feet after the devastating Kyuubi attack years ago. 

“That looks great! Good choice!” Tsunade exclaims, her heels clacking over the new foot bridge, manicured nails brushing over the bannister in admiration.

Tenzou remains rigidly still, managing a half nod to acknowledge the compliment as his heart continues to jackhammer under his ribs.

He should have heard Tsunade.

He should have been more aware.

This is one mistake that he intends to never repeat. No way.

*

“That's it," Tsunade suddenly exclaims. "Why are you in turtle-mode _now_?” Tsunade suddenly asks, as she sets her chopsticks down and pins Tenzou with a critical look and an unimpressed look.

Tenzou is a little worn out having finished constructing the west wing of the estate by lunch time. They are now seated on the newly made engawa. It is far from finished, the wooden panels still require two coats of varnish. Unfortunately, coating the wooden structure in varnish and other protective layers will have to be done by hand as Tenzou’s mokuton ability doesn’t come with its own in-built chemical factory. There’s only so much he can do. 

Tenzou is not in the mood to be subjected to a line of questioning that makes no sense whatsoever. Turtle-mode? What is she talking about _now_?

“Turtle-mode?” Tenzou asks, passing a bottle of chilled great tea from the grocery bag, their lunch break consisting of convenience store bento and a few strawberry cookie packets for dessert.

“Yeah, like, you’re--” Tsunade takes the bottle and hunches her shoulder, drawing herself inwards as if to make a point. 

Ah. She means drawn in. Like a turtle in its shell. Right.

Tenzou automatically straightens. It’s the only proverbial slap upside the head he needs to realize that he’s actually, indeed, drawn inwards. “I’m not.”

Smooth Tenzou. Real smooth. That's getting caught in the lie itself because you were hunching. Had it been Danzou that would mean some isolation time and rationed meals. You should know better. 

“I’m your mother. Don’t lie to me.” Tsunade mutters, twisting the cap of the green tea bottle open.

Tenzou interprets that as an order. What else could it possibly be? Mother just means commander in a household, some sort of figure head. Danzou had been a paternal figure of some sort (although he was never referred to as a father). Kakashi is a bit of a sibling figure (although he isn’t referred to as a brother). Sandaime, technically, being in his position, wouldn’t that make him the father figure of Konoha?

Tenzou licks his lips once, before he carefully words his response. “I am unsure if I would classify my behavior as 'turtle-mode'. But I suppose I have, let my guard down and I shouldn’t have. I was caught by surprise with your sudden presence while constructing the foot bridge this morning. I will endeavor to not be caught off guard again and appear more alert from now. I apologize if I have come off as a liar and tardy. That was not my intention. I don’t believe I have anything to hide from you.” 

Tsunade is _staring_ again.

In that very weird way of hers.

The one that suddenly leaves Tenzou feeling bare, a chill brushing over the curves of his exposed elbow. It’s not that he’s intimidated or terrified of the stare. Not at all. It is just uncomfortable in a way that there seems to be something about the situation he’s completely missed, like a kunai flying off tangent by at least fifty meters. And that's wrong. Tenzou is more annoyed if not a little intimidated at the fact that he’s missing invisible queues that he should, for a shinobi of his caliber, know about.

His assessment seems to be right because Tsunade _sighs_ like she’s defeated before she proceeds to stab her chopsticks into her disposable bento, stuffing her face in a display of frustration, completely graceless. Tenzou watches as bits of rice fly off the sides with how fast she’s consuming her lunch. He has half the mind to tell her to slow down because attempting to dislodge any of the prawn pieces that may get stuck in her throat would be a challenge. Tenzou doesn’t want his arms to be under that bust-line, nor does he want his fist to be in the middle of that bust-line either. 

Tsunade doesn’t stop eating. Tenzou is forced to conclude that she is done with her questioning and proceeds to eat his lunch at a more sedate pace. Or at least that had been the plan.

“Let me get this straight,” Tsunade says, burping a little too loudly behind a fist that she then slaps down to her folded knee. “You’re 'recluse' because I managed to sneak up on you this morning?”

That isn’t what Tenzou said but arguing back with his current commander may lead to more dire consequences. Honestly, Tenzou is not in the mood to face any sort of punishment even if he may deserve it. So he rolls with it and agrees for the sake of the argument.

“And the reason you’ve been a sad, little, wet tree stump all freaking day is because you think that, here, in what is soon to be our home, _your home_ , mind you, that you shouldn’t be relaxed at all? That you should always be on high alert?” 

A sad, little, wet tree stump? What an odd way to describe behavior. That would never pass on a mission report. Is Tsunade drunk? She does have the reputation for day drinking. Maybe she’s tipsy? She doesn’t sound okay for a shinobi. Who even talks like _that_?

Tenzou hesitates before dipping his chin in half a nod. He’s not going to nod more than that because he is not a sad, little, wet tree stump. A tree stump isn’t capable of speech or assessment even though it has a potential to maybe turn into a living thing again. He is _not_ a tree stump.   
  
The reference is quite lame and predictable, too. No doubt it’s because of his mokuton ability. It’s old. Tenzou has heard enough teasing commentaries from his teammates ever since he’s fallen under Kakashi’s command to last him a lifetime -- skinny arms, pretty-boy, doll-face, tyrannosaurus-rex arms (because he’s smaller than everyone else, therefore has shorter reach), lizard-legs (because he’s shorter than everyone in his age group), among others. Someone has even gone as far (Owl, the senseless idiot) as humming the commercial jingle for a popular shampoo that advertises its prowess to detangle and nourish hair. Tenzou always found it silly to be associated with a shampoo commercial. Plenty of other people have thicker, more flowing hair than he does. They certainly don’t get the whole commercial jingle hummed in their direction.

Honestly, why is he not surprised that Tsunade would be just like everyone else?

“Don’t you find that a little strange, Tenzou? We are within the village.” Tsunade straightens and tips her chin up, turning their conversation to a teaching moment. “While it is healthy to exercise a dose of alertness within the village proper, the wards of our home are activated; no one will be able to enter without triggering the warning. You are safe within these walls. I am concerned with how upset you seem to be with yourself at something like getting sneaked up on at _home_. By me, of all people. Your official guardian and well, your mother.”

“Getting sneaked up on would render you dead on a mission,” Tenzou answers softly, dropping to the grain of the wood, chopsticks hanging limp between his fingers.

“Obviously, but you’re not on a mission _now_ , are you?” Tsunade points out, cocking an eyebrow. “I know what you’re thinking. Sannin. Snuck up on me. Boohoo, I need to be stronger, better. Yeah, yeah, there’s all that. You should always hone your skills because there's always room for improvement. But come on, live a little. Think of it as fun! Grandfather used to sneak up on me all the time. But I could never sneak up on him!”

“... but he’s the Shodaime.” Tenzou answers, flushing with shame that he dared to voice that thought out. Of course the Shodaime would catch anyone sneaking up on him. Tsunade would have been a child then. A child would be loud, reckless, no measured steps, unable to reign chakra in. Of course the Shodaime would know if Tsunade is approaching. Any shinobi worth their salt would know if a _child_ is approaching.

“He was also my grandfather,” Tsunade counters, crossing her arms under her breasts, a slight wrinkle appearing between her brows.

“I am unsure how to -- I am not sure how to interpret your words. Forgive me. Maybe if you rephrased it?” 

“It means relax, you little brat. Let your guard down when you’re home. I mean, it’s far from being habitable at the moment and I know this is easier said than done, but I want to be the person you can rely on. The person you can be unguarded with because that’s what mothers are for. If not around me, then at the very least, you should learn to distinguish your comfort levels within the walls of our home and outside the walls of our home. In fact, I’m going to make it a rule!” Tsunade gets to her feet. “From this day, you are to relax in this property. You may be the little, high alert soldier that old fart _programmed_ ,” Tsunade spits the word out, like its poison, “outside these walls. But when in here, you can be your authentic self.”

“My... authentic... self?” Tenzou asks, unsure. What does that even _mean_? Like be Cat all the time? 

“Within these walls, you are to explore the levels of your likes and dislikes. And it is your assignment to try to sneak up on me, just to be fair. Keep a tally. Have fun. Consider it part of your training. If you manage to sneak up on me, I’ll teach you something.”

“You’ll teach me a technique?” 

Tsunade’s grin is wide, toothy, charming, quite beautiful. Like the women on magazine covers. “I am your mother! I have to pass down some skills to you!” 

“Oh…” Tenzou blinks, absentmindedly chewing on his lower lip, thinking about the prospect of learning a new technique. Maybe medical jutsu? That would prove extremely useful on the field. “Okay.”

“Good! We have a deal,” Tsunade bends over the edge of the engawa and picks up a rock, angles her wrist and tosses it over the pond’s surface. It skips five times before sinking to the bottom. Tenzou finds himself blinking and a little impressed at that. How did she do that. “Hah! I can still do it! Here, you try.” 

Tsunade hands Tenzou a small pebble. 

Tenzou tries to mimic the way he assumes Tsunade had thrown the pebble in. The pebble ends up plopping pathetically into the pond. It does not skip. Something about that tugs at a tiny part of Tenzou, somewhere under his ribcage. It’s enough to make his lip twitch just the tiniest bit.

“Eh, you’ll figure it out one day.” Tsunade shrugs, patting Tenzou on the shoulder and tearing open a cookie packet.

  
TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay? Nay? I mean, Tsunade should be in her late thirties here. Fairly young, still a bit chatty and lively. Also, majority of this story will be told from Yamato/Tenzou's POV. But Tsunade knows trauma/programming when she sees one. So she's stepping up and purposely being chatty in hopes to draw Tenzou out of his turtle shell.
> 
> Feel free to yell at me! Or come say hi at tumblr @pinkcatharsis


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Self-beta'd - might have missed stuff.

Tenzou doesn’t get bothered for missions until the house is deemed fit to be habitable and the plumping and electricity are efficiently running. He finds it curious that he isn’t summoned for four weeks, his time divided between building, adjusting, and sometimes re-adjusting when Tsunade wants a portion of the house completely gone. It involves a lot of trial and error, sometimes even a little too close to chakra fatigue. All in all, Tenzou would conclude that the reconstruction of the estate takes the cake in his book in terms of personal accomplishment.

What used to be a multi-level, severely outdated ten bedroom estate is now a humbler, more reasonable, more modern four bedroom estate with a much larger garden surrounding it. Gone are the paper screens and the tatami mats, in its place a spread of clear glass and polished wooden floors, instead. The rooms are no longer separated into blocks but more open, most of the secluding walls taken down for more air flow. The pond remains the same size, now gleaming clear under the bright early summer morning, live koi fish swimming in its depth. In the far corner of the estate is a garden shed and a small living quarters complete with utilities and plumbing in case they require the services of a groundskeeper. Tenzou had built most of the furniture himself, something that had gone quite smoothly because Tsunade (much to his amusement) is a woman who knew exactly what she wanted once she was done scrolling through furniture magazines. The ones he couldn’t built were already delivered and placed in their proper places a few days ago.

That morning, once the early summer showers had concluded, Tenzou and three of his clones step into the estate carrying a box each. They pause by the main gate, taking in the sight of the garden that is just a shade brighter post-rain, as if its been drizzled by something ethereal, washing the gated space to show off nature in her humble brilliance. The grass is a shade of every dreamer’s meadow, the growing gingko, cherry peach, lemon and weeping willow trees swaying in the gentle, warm breeze, some of their shadows extending over the wooden walkway. An elevated garden pagoda stands tall proud, the polish and water-proof coating of the wood gleaming under the sunlight; around it, is an eden of flowers spread out like the dials of a clock: a rainbow of fully bloomed gladiolus whites, gold and sunset orange, dark, blood red snapdragons, black and blue tulips, golden fennel, and purple sage. The flowers bloom like a color palette, that if one stands upon the steps of the pagoda, one would see a gradient as they turn clockwise.

Tenzou had been given liberty to do what he wanted with the garden. He didn't want to seem so assuming so he had gone with three characters when choosing his flora: strength, wisdom and respect.

All of which is something he would associate with someone like Tsunade. Or anyone within Senju, for that matter.

In the backyard, right under the spread of the kitchen window, grows a herb and small vegetable garden: parsley, mint, basil, sage, thyme, coriander, chamomile and tarragon. Tomatoes, eggplants, squash, potato and carrots. Not that Tenzou would ever use all of them, or has any plans for them. He mostly added the herb and vegetable garden simply because he liked a particular fence design in one of his reference books. It had been an excuse to build the fence. It had been experimental at first and then it seemed like a waste of effort to take it all down for nothing.

Tenzou steps into what would be his home with something he'd hesitate to call anxiety. He tells himself it shouldn't be a big deal, living with someone like Tsunade.

It's like setting up camp with new teammates.

In a very nice, very fancy set up.

Permanently.

Tenzou`s paperwork had come a week ago.

As of this day, with four humble boxes that made up most of his life, he is officially, within the village proper, Senju Tenzou. 

*

With things pretty much settled and nothing to keep Tenzou occupied (he isn't supervising electricians, he isn't keeping an eye on the plumbers, he isn't keeping a watchful eye on the deliveries and he isn't cleaning or scrubbing floors or tiles), their first afternoon together after they more less have unpacked and settled their belongings in their respective rooms, suddenly feels… awkward.

Or it seems awkward because Tenzou is sitting on a kitchen stool in their very airy, very large kitchen, being served two boiled eggs and an entire loaf of bread..

Across from him, with the kitchen island between them, stands Tsunade, her lips twisted in what looks like an unimpressed line, arms crossed under bosoms, a dust of pink on her cheeks.

“I made you lunch,” she says, one eye twitching for just the briefest second.

Tenzou looks at the large serving plate and two measly boiled eggs that had cracked somewhere in the boiling process. A bit of the egg white had oozed past the shell, bubbling like a horrid, popped puss ridden pimple. Tenzou eyes the loaf of bread and really, he isn’t particularly hungry and he isn’t complaining about the contents of the plate. He’s just not sure what to do or say in this kind of situation.

He goes with the best tactic; politeness is the solution.

“Thank you,” Tenzou answers, dipping his head in a show of gratefulness. A beat passes by before he reaches out and starts to peel the eggs. 

A little salt and pepper would have been ideal for a meal like this. Tenzou didn’t want to sound ungrateful though, nor did he want to sound like he’s complaining. He eats both eggs mechanically, along with two slices of bread that only serves to dry his throat and mouth. As he goes through his meal, he pretends not to see the stack of dirty pots, ladles, dishes and whatnot piled high in the sink. He pretends not to smell the odd stench of something charred hanging in the air, most of it aired out through the wide open window. 

For the past four weeks, their meals had either come from the convenience store or the closest izakaya exactly ten kilometers away. The estate had not been in any shape to do any sort of cooking other than boiling water via an electric kettle. 

Judging by the mess in the sink, Tsunade is not proficient in cooking.

She can boil eggs though.

A disbelieving huff makes Tenzou look up from his meal, pausing mid-chew when he regards the strange, weird look on Tsunade’s face.

What did he do _now_?

“Are you enjoying your meal?” Tsunade asks, one eyebrow making an attempt to touch her hairline.

“Eggs are nutritious,” Tenzou responds, after swallowing a very dry mouthful.

“Honestly…” Tsunade _sighs_ , in that odd way of hers that pings a warning in Tenzou’s mind that he’s clearly missed something. Again. “Don’t kids your age prefer to eat like, yakiniku, hamburger steaks, omurice, curry rice and ramen?”

“I eat and order ramen and omurice sometimes. I’m not sure what a hamburger steak is. I also have never tried curry rice,” Tenzou answers monotonously, just before he pops the last piece of egg into his mouth. 

His answer seems to have caused Tsunade to have a meltdown because she twitches several times before planting both hands very firmly on the kitchen counter with so much force that Tenzou is surprised the marble didn’t crack. “You have never -- you’ve never eaten curry rice?”

Tenzou forces himself to remain still, even though everything in his training is making him bristle with high alert. He swallows past the taste of egginess in his throat and blinks a few times, tilting his head to one side, staring at Tsunade’s face convulse and twitch a few more times. She wears too much emotion on her face. It’s so odd for a renowned sannin. 

“No,” Tenzou confirms softly. What is the big deal with curry rice, anyway?

“Well we’re going to remedy that!” Tsunade huffs, turning on her heel. “Get dressed. We’re getting lunch in the village! Now!”

Before Tenzou can respond to the order, Tsunade is long gone, disappearing within the confines of her bedroom, no doubt to change her oil splattered, patchy-with-flour and other questionable stains clothes.

*

They tree and roof hop their way to the village, only stopping at the edge of a particular street to drop into an alley that leads into the eastern side of Tea Avenue. They join the throng and bustle of civilians and shinobi alike. Tenzou falls into Tsunade’s shadow, trailing after her as she weaves through the crowd, crossing the length of the street before making a sharp turn past a bakery. He almost face plants against her back when she comes to sudden halt, Tsunade’s heels scraping against gravel and dirt as she proceeds to stand there, jaw hanging open staring at a electrical store.

“What the hell?” Tsuande asks, clearly pissed off.

Immediately, Tenzou looks about, trying to gauge if there is anything in the area other than the large trash bins and what looks like an abandoned wheelbarrow that Tsunade may pick up and throw at the clearly offensive electrical store. In all fairness, its an electrical store that Tenzou doesn’t dare buy light bulbs from. They seem to enjoy taking advantage of their younger customers. 

Did Tsunade have a negative experience in terms of lightbulbs too?

“It’s gone!” Tsunade crows, stomping her feet so hard Tenzou wonders why the ground didn’t crack. “Damnit!”

Tenzou proceeds to remain still, deciding that in a scenario like this, it’s best to mimic the presence of a plant pot. 

“This is ridiculous! Hey, old man, what happened to the restaurant that was here?” Tsunade calls out, stepping into the electrical shop door and engaging in an inquiry about the previous establishment.

Ah.

Okay.

Now her reaction makes sense.

Must she be very expressive in her reaction, though?

Tsunade stomps out of the shop looking livid, a shadow covering her features. “Well that was a complete waste of time. Sheesh! This used to be my favorite place for curry rice! Grandfather and I used to come here all the time back then!” 

Tenzou awkwardly casts a glance at the shop’s signboard, unsure of what to say in this regard. It would seem that Tsunade and the Shodaime had strong attachments to the previous establishment. The put upon look that replaces the possible-temper-explosion on Tsunade’s face makes Tenzou blink a few times in thought, his head tilting to the side. It seems silly to be attached to an establishment. Surely, there are other places in the village that serve curry rice? 

“No matter. We’re going to my second favorite. Let’s go!”

*

They end up standing in front of an empty, fenced lot with overgrown grass.

Tsunade’s jaw drops open in dismay, her hands balling into fist.

“Okay, well, I have a third place!” Tsunade grumps.

*

The third place turns out to be a clothing store on the northern part of Tea Avenue. 

Tsunade looks ready to cause some destruction that Tenzou reaches forward, tugging at her sleeve, pointing at a fairly popular izakaya across the street filled with genins, chuunins and couples, a board with a picture of their special curry-bowl displayed outside to the public.

“They serve curry,” Tenzou offers, hoping with every fiber of his being that Tsunade wouldn’t do something brash. Like punching a building or something. Tenzou is sure that it wouldn’t go over too well with the Sandaime or the council if their fellow shinobi decide to endeavor in village destruction over curry rice.

“Well it won’t be as good!” Tsunade snaps, something that goes over Tenzou’s head because the response is directed at the street and not at his face. The sudden, loud, audible growl of Tsunade’s stomach gives Tsunade pause in her temper, a hot flush suddenly gracing the apples of her cheeks. “Let’s go!”

Tenzou blinks rapidly, watching Tsunade make her way through the crowd, parting them somewhat with her fierce aura before pushing her way into the restaurant, asking for a table for two.

*

Tenzou isn’t sure what to make of the table wedged against the window with the general shinobi public clearly pausing every now and then, squinting through the glass to catch a glimpse of Tsunade. Tenzou recognizes a few passerbys as ANBU off duty, and those, well, they pause to stare at him too.

Tenzou can only imagine what kind of ballads they’d start singing off in the ANBU headquarters, now. 

He hates being the center of attention.

He hates also being the object of gossip.

Now, it would seem, he’d be the hottest topic of discussion and that is something he really doesn’t want to deal with.

“You don’t like it?” Tsunade asks, one cheek puffed up with a mouthful of curry rice. “I mean it’s not the best--”

Tenzou quickly dives in, taking a mouthful of rice, curry sauce, carrot and a mushroom. It’s quite a fragrant dish, rich in flavor, a little creamy compared to the meals he’s more used to. There’s the tiniest hint of something sweet and spicy under it all, but nothing Tenzou finds unappetizing. It’s not bad, at all. 

“It’s good,” Tenzou answers, licking his lips and going for another spoonful.

“Here, try the chilli flakes,” Tsunade pushes over a small container across the table, filled with chili pepper flakes. “Grandfather and I used to try to outdo each other on who can handle the most spice.”

Tenzou gives the container a bit of a stare before helping himself to a spoonful. He dumps all of it over his spoonful and before Tsunade can stop him, her eyes wide and almost panicked, Tenzou shoves the spoon into his mouth.

And proceeds to regret being a living human being.

His mouth _blazes_ with liquid fire, his hand dropping the spoon as he looks left and right at what the hell to do. Training kicks in and instructs him to spit out the vile poison in his mouth, just as mannerisms and a reminder that he’s in the village, in front of civillians and his mother goes to war with that graining. He shouldn’t spit it out, it’d be wrong and goes against basic table etiquette. Left with nothing to do, Tenzou _swallows_ the entire mouthful, regretting it even more as fire seems to sweep down his esophagus. He thumps at his chest with a fist, coughing a few times, before choking at the heat that seems adamant in burning off his entire mouth and teeth. How can his teeth feel the heat? Is that even _normal_?

He grabs the first icy glass in his line of sight, going against every protocol of just openly drinking something that clearly isn’t his. It does nothing to his quench the fire in his mouth that he begins to fan with both his hands, his mouth open, tongue hanging out like a panting dog -- by the gods, why would anyone do this to themselves? Clearly, the Shodaime is indeed the strongest shinobi if he can withstant this kind of palette torture!

The icy water does nothing.

But the glass of milk that a waiter hurriedly brings over seems to ease _some_ of the inferno in Tenzou’s mouth. Sweat begins to trickle down his temples, neck and chin, as he regards Tsunade who is beside herself and _howling_ with uncontrolled laughter.

“Why did you do that, you idiot?” Tsunade _wheezes_ , doubling over and clutching her sides.

Well, because she asked? Or hinted at? 

Good grief, was he not supposed to follow her instructions or what exactly?

Tenzou lets out a choked sound, gagging at fire and air, all eyes in the restaurant on him as he proceeds to down the rest of the milk and in a breathless whisper, begs for another glass.

*

Tsunade thrusts an ice cream cone at Tenzou’s face sometime later on their way back home. Tenzou goes a little crossed eyed at how close she’s holding it at his face, but otherwise, hesitates in accepting the offered dessert.

“Don’t worry, it’s just vanilla ice cream,” Tsunade chuckles, waving the cone a little bit as if to emphasize her point. “It’ll help with the burn.”

Tenzou frowns a little bit, his clothes still a little sticky from the sweatfest of a mess earlier. He hesitates a little more before reaching out and accepting the ice cream.

One lick indeed proves to be helpful to the inferno that still lingers like a memory in his mouth. Tenzou had not been able to eat anything after that mouthful of chill flakes, his appetite shot to hell and back. 

The ice cream though… it’s nice.

“You like it?” Tsunade asks.

Tenzou licks his lips and nods. “It’s good.”

“Good,” Tsunade nods, looking quite pleased with herself. “Next time, mind the amount of chilli hmm?” 

Tsunade reaches out and gently ruffles Tenzou’s hair, tousling a bit of his bangs and the longer strands on the crown of his head. It’s not the kind of attention Tenzou is used to. He’s seen it amongst the civilians and some of the shinobi and their families. To be on the receiving end of it though seems odd.

But also, not so bad.

Tsunade has a soft and funny enough, despite her monstrous strength, gentle hand.

*

That night, they eat ramen together in the living room.

Tsunade also shows Tenzou her favorite television drama series.

It is that night that Tenzou discovers the magic that is drama series.

He continues to watch episodes ahead until the crack of dawn, long after Tsunade had curled up and fallen asleep on the sofa.

It is only the distant crow of the rooster that Tenzou realizes how time had flown, his eyes drifting towards Tsunade who his snoring softly in an open display of unguardedness. Tenzou cannot recall if he’s ever seen the Sandaime sleep so seemingly careless like this, let alone Danzou.

Tsunade must trust him to be this… free around him.

The concluding thought, if anything, undos a knot of tension somewhere along the length of Tenzou’s back. That’s a good thing, right?   
  


TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tsunade is a troll mom.


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Self-beta'd - might have missed stuff.

Tenzou spends exactly forty hours living under the same roof with Tsunade when he concludes (and admits to himself but never outloud, not even under pain of torture) that Tsunade is a person with abnormally too much character for him to handle.

Why can’t people be a little simpler? A little more compartmentalized and less… out there? Flowers can be vibrant. The civilians that make up Konoha’s population can be loud, noisy, and as chaotic as humanly possible because civilians have no shinobi training. Even Pan the dog that Tenzou had raised since puppyhood only to then ordered to kill by Danzou to prove his loyalty made less noise than Tsunade. And Pan was a _dog_ ; dogs that aren’t trained summons (like Kakashi-senpai’s pack) has the excuse to be noisy and expressive in their stupid emotions, because common dogs like Pan are stupid creatures who had no business being too attached to their masters in the first place. Dogs like Pan just didn’t know better.

Tsuande, though, _should_ know better.

He can no longer distinguish between her conversation and her orders.

Hence Tenzou’s current conundrum as he stands in the middle of a stationary shop, staring at a plethora of colorful pastel planners and being giggled at by some of the civilian girls. 

Tenzou isn’t sure what gave him away but Tsunade had looked upon him that day with that odd expression on her face before telling to go buy a planner because they have to plan their upcoming mother-son dates.

“You’re probably going to be sent out soon. Best we remember important dates so we don’t forget. It’ll be helpful for you to keep track of your training progress _assuming,_ you do manage to sneak up on me, that is. I didn’t forget our deal! Go to the stationary shop after lunch and we’ll talk about the upcoming Summer Festival.” Tsunade had said earlier that day, flashing Tenzou a toothy, sharky grin that didn’t seem necessary for a statement like that. Then again, Tsunade is an odd commander.

Determined to receive that training even though he is yet to actually put in effort into sneaking up on Tsunade, Tenzou took the advice-command to heart. He’s never really used a planner before. He didn’t even know such a thing existed for the public. It’s not that he doesn’t know what a planner is. Being under the Sandaimes command for a year now, he just assumed that the administrative team in the ANBU headquarters and the Hokage tower were the only places such a thing were being used. Maybe some of the official offices handling village matters, too, but the civilians? 

He doesn’t even remember seeing Danzou use one.

Tenzou has been standing rooted in his spot for the past fifteen minutes, unsure what to make of the planners before him. He didn’t want anything bright. He also didn’t want anything that is lined with fur, sparkled or had plastic sequins on the front. He’s given up asking the storekeeper where the planners are because asking twice and getting pointed to the exact same shelf means that this must be the _only_ shelf with planners in the entire store. He has half the mind to use a wall calendar instead. He had more wall space now in his much bigger bedroom. He even had a small balcony! 

But Tsunade had said planner not wall calendar.

Going against her wouldn’t be right.

Tenzou stares at the eggshell yellow planner that is by far, the simplest, most plain there is in the entire shelf. He takes one out, examining the pages within, before he catches sight of one of the civilian girl staring at him with what looks like curiosity. He blinks in question in her direction sending her scurrying away to her friend, giggling the entire time. They whisper behind there hands, giggle some more and proceed to duck behind a bookshelf, watching him from beyond the cracks. 

Tenzou doesn’t understand.

Is he not supposed to pick the yellow one or what exactly?

Something worms its way into Tenzou’s nerves, making him clutch the yellow planner a little too tight until his knuckles go bone white. He catches himself within three seconds of that odd sensation passing through his chest, something that’s been happening more often since he’s joined Sandaime’s command. He’s learned that the best way to deal with such a surge of whatever-the-hell-this-is is to breathe in and out a few times and release that foreign sensation buildup in one slow, measured exhale. 

It happens around the older ANBU often. A lot of times it happens around his teammates too before Kakashi barks a command to shut the fuck up. 

Apparently, now, it’s happening around civilians as well.

Tenzou knows what it is. It’s the attention, being under the spotlight when he has no business being the spotlight. He’s purposely drawing attention to himself in these situations by being present in a stationary shop, or by looking too young, too small, to ‘pretty’, to whatever.

He’s trying to change that because being on the spot means attention, which means being a target and he, more than anything, does not want to be a target. For any reason.

The reminder and realization eases the tension somewhat. Knowing the cause, effect and the solution is the best to resolve an uncomfortable and dangerous situation; Tenzou may be under Sandaime’s command but he hasn’t forgotten his training. 

Tenzou turns to leave, stopping suddenly when the giggling erupts again from behind the bookshelves. He turns to face the direction of the noise, listening and watching a pair of shadows disappear down the shelf isle to somewhere else. 

The approaching presence appearing somewhere on his left makes him turn when a voice speaks, “Don’t mind them. They’re weird.”

“Do you know them?” He asks the stranger, who is a good five inches taller than him, had more meat on him and also wore his hair long in a messy ponytail. The gleam of the forehead protector doesn’t betray the person’s rank. Tenzou isn’t able to deduce what rank he is; not all Jounins and Chuunins choose to wear a uniform, especially if they came from the bigger village clans.

“Nope,” the stranger responds, shrugging and shifting a stack of paperbacks in his slender arms. “I figured they were bothering you. I’m sorry for their behavior though.” A look of understanding crosses the stranger’s face, making the scar on his nose twitch when he wrinkles his nose in distaste. “It’s probably because you’re staring at those kinds of planners.”

Tenzou looks back at the rainbow explosion on the shelf and then at the yellow planner in his hand. “I needed a planner.”

“I can see that,” comes the amused reply. “It’s not a bad choice.”

“It’s the plainest,” Tenzou mutters.

“Oh! Well, if you want something more basic, you’re not going to find it here. The plain ones are in down there next to the plastic folders,” the stranger points at the opposite end of the store.

“But the storekeeper pointed me here,” Tenzou reasons, confused more than ever because he had asked twice. _Twice!_

“Eh, don’t mind the old man. She’s always grumpy.” The stranger rolls his eyes and tips his chin for Tenzou to follow. They cross two isles before Tenzou spots the kind of planner he’s been wanting. “There you go!”

“Thank you,” Tenzou gratefully _breathes_ , something easing at the base of his stomach now that he can get rid of the bright yellow planner. He reaches out and picks out a plain, no fuss, black planner that is easily five times cheaper than the yellow one. “I appreciate the help.”

“Anytime!” The stranger smiles toothily, easy and friendly, dimples dotting both his cheeks that makes Tenzou stare just a little bit at it before waving his fingers in a gesture of goodbye and turning to leave.

Tenzou watches him head to the checkout counter, watches him argue with the grumpy storekeeper, waving what looks like discount coupons and going on and on about its validity date. He watches this helpful stranger grump and wave a fist in the air, refusing to backdown when the storekeeper wouldn’t apply the discount. It’s not a big discount but Tenzou wonders if maybe the reason the stranger wants the discount is because he’s short on money? Tenzou thinks he wouldn’t mind assisting his fellow shinobi with a few ryos if that were the case. The stranger after all, had just assisted Tenzou.

But the stranger doesn’t win the argument is forced to purchase two books instead of five. He leaves with a sour and disappointed face, his nose wrinkled and cheeks puffed and flushed in irritation, looking every bit as annoyed.

Tenzou is reminded of Tsunade all of a sudden, the way she looked at the rotting wood of the footbridge and the swordfish statue in their garden.

Wait.

There’s more shinobi _like_ Tsunade?

What the hell?

*

Tenzou is on his way back to his new house when the summon of the hawk lands in his path. Tenzou continues walking; he shunshins his way from the middle of Tea Avenue and right at the gates of the ANBU headquarters. He doesn’t slow or quicken his walking pace, carrying on like he didn’t just switch places, walking past the gate and into the administration building. 

The quiet that falls once his presence appears is deafening for exactly one heartbeat. And then, just like he hadn’t appeared, the humdrum proceeds.

It’s all the clue Tenzou needs to know that he is the object of discussion, just as he had predicted.

Something twists in his stomach when he steps into the meeting room team Ro’s been assigned when all eyes turn to look at him, all conversation stops with their captain nowhere present to begin their instruction. With Kakashi not present, it gives his teammates time to pester, question, comment and gossip about his change in familiar surname.

By change meaning, he finally has one.

“How’s your mom?” Owl asks.

Tenzou smartly doesn’t respond, opting to meet Owl’s gaze with a quiet, indifferent stare. 

“So it’s true then,” Lynx - Shiranui Genma - murmurs, looking partially surprised, partially curious, both eyebrows disappearing under his forehead protector.

“You should update your information if you’ve officially moved to a new residence,” Falcon - Namiashi Raidou - adds. “Best do that if you haven’t already.”

“Yes, senpai,” Tenzou nods. He really should do that.

“What’s it like, pipsqueak? Having the most beautiful woman in the village to be your mother?” Owl - Tsunayoshi Sora - signsongs, moving forward and dropping a thick arm around Tenzou’s shoulder, yanking and wedging Tenzou’s much smaller frame against his thicker one. 

The question causes a series of snorts and chuckles from the rest of the room, making the heat rise all the way up to Tenzou’s cheeks as he firmly pushes Owl away, putting distance between them and planting both his feet firmly on the ground.

“I guess you’re our new mama’s boy now huh? Word is she’s got you doing all sorts of supervising and errands for her!” Rabbit - Yamamoto Akane - chuckles, crossing her arms across her chest and tilting her head at Tenzou. “You weren’t with us in our last mission two weeks ago.”

“Being the son of a sannin has its perks, huh?” 

“Ehhhh, wish I could catch a break like that!”

“I hear she has a temper though.”

“Tenzou, you better not give her any problems or we won’t have you to pick up the slack around here.”

A chorus of laughter echoes within the room. They are in the middle of discussing Tsunade’s reputation over Tenzou’s head when Kakashi appears by the doorway, looking like he had just rolled out of bed, hair standing in every direction as it always does.

“What’s going on?” Kakashi drawls, his presence putting a halt on the overall amused aura of their meeting room.

“Just congratulating Cat for his new status,” Rabbit answers, shrugging.

“Congratulating, huh?” Kakashi’s gaze is sharp, as he scans the rest of the room even when every bit of him remains slouched and uncaring. “Well, I hope you had your fun. The Sandaime is sending us to Snow based on intel that may or may not be reliable.”

Tenzou _almost_ twitches.

Gods, he hates missions to Snow. He also hates unreliable intel. More often than not, those kinds of mission ends up being a complete waste of time.

*

“You okay?” Kakashi asks, once the room is void of all presence save for himself and Tenzou’s.

“Yes, senpai,” Tenzou answers, adjusting the planner wrapped in a paper bag under his armpit. “Did you need something?”

“You know, Tenzou,” Kakashi begins, before he sighs, something quite foreign and unreadable crossing his gaze; Tenzou had no clue what to make of it. It’s an odd expression.. “You really shouldn’t let them talk about your mother like that.”

“Like what?” Tenzou asks. 

“Like she’s entertainment. You can put them in their place if you want to,” Kakashi points out.

Tenzou isn’t sure what to make of this information. It would seem, as per Kakashi, that it is Tenzou’s duty to protect Tsunade’s honor. Tenzou would have done so anyway but he isn’t sure why Kakashi is pointing this out to him now. He concludes that Kakashi must have heard the entire exchange, is displeased by it and wants him to follow through with his action. It’s all part of Kakashi’s underneath-the-underneath way of giving advice. A year of being at the receiving end of that kind of nonsense has taught Tenzou to pick up on what he calls Kakashi-queues; Tenzou had a hard time adjusting to Kakashi’s command outside of the field at the beginning. Focusing on things that aren’t words helped Tenzou understand Kakashi better. The way he slouches doesn’t mean he’s lazy. The slight wrinkle between his brows, despite the mask, means that he’s concerned for his kouhai. The tightness of his jawline earlier when he dispelled their gossipping teammates with official business means that he had not been pleased. If Tenzou hadn’t spent a year observing Kakashi keenly, these small bits of information would have gone over his head.

(Tenzou can appreciate Kakashi wanting to remind everyone on team Ro to be on equal footing, to somewhat boost Tenzou’s standing despite him being the most frail and small of the group in size but quite so in skill -- small doesn't mean weak when it comes to skill; Tenzou has proven himself in that regard, as did Kakashi in hte past). Tenzou really wishes that Kakashi wouldn’t do that anymore though -- he’s been doing it all year and it does nothing to dispel well, anything, really. The team just continues to pick on Tenzou behind Kakashi’s back.)

Perhaps he should deploy the same tactic with Tsunade.

It sure as hell worked with Kakashi.

“I understand, senpai,” Tenzou says. It’s not a lie, per se. He intends to put a stop to all talks and odd hints about his mother being the most beautiful woman immediately. The team gets a free pass this once. Should it repeat again, he has no problems putting a halt to it himself.

“Hmmm,” Kakashi hums, tipping his head towards the door. “I’m hungry; buy me a snack.”

“Okay.” 

*

They sit in a small teahouse with a plate of steamed dumplings and warm oolong tea between them on the table. Kakashi’s food disappears like it always does, while Tenzou takes his time sipping his tea.

“So you’re Senju Tenzou, now, huh?” Kakashi says, once he’s done eating.

“I suppose so,” Tenzou murmurs, setting his tea cup down.

“How does that feel?”

“Weird.” Tenzou shrugs. “It’s just an old name, senpai. I understand the history behind it but at the end of the day, it’s just a name…”

Honestly, it doesn’t change anything concrete other than basic necessities like the kind of roof Tenzou now has over his head.

“Names have meaning, Tenzou,” Kakashi softly says, almost a little melancholic.

“Do they?” Tenzou counters, not quite challenging. He keeps his tone carefully even, as he always does when he’s out in public.

Because if names had meaning, then the heir to Konoha’s Yellow Flash wouldn’t be passed around like its a diseased thing, unwanted, uncared for, sneered at, hated, despised. If names had meaning, Tsunade’s absence from the village wouldn’t be tolerated by the council. If names had meaning, there would be more political play and corruption within Konoha’s walls. It just seemed odd for a name to have so much value when at the end of the day, they’re all just tools fighting a secret war. 

When one dies, none of that matter. Legacy means shit in Tenzou's opinion when it comes to the future. What matters is the present and only the present. 

Shinobi had no business dreaming of the future let alone living in it. They may be fighting in the present for the future. It doesn't mean they get to live it. Servitude to ensure Konoha remains strong is the only thing that matters.

To hear something like a name having meaning coming from someone whose father was crucified for one failed mission, when the White Fang had so many other accomplishments, it’s strange indeed.

(Kakashi speaks like he cares but acts like he doesn't and in quiet moments like these, the former seems to be more true. Tenzou had long figured out that Kakashi is one unstable man. Too much feelings under the mask when someone of his caliber shouldn't be like this.)

Kakashi doesn’t answer, Maybe because he himself knows that his own reasoning is actually full of shit. Instead, he changes the subject. “You happy though?”

“She…” Tenzou trails off. What’s a polite, but honest way to word what he’s going through? “She is very a different change and addition to my life, senpai. I am doing my best to get used to it.”

Kakashi chuckles, reaching out and giving Tenzou’s far too slender shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Well, whatever it is, I’m happy for you, Tenzou. Having family is good. Don’t squander this opportunity, hmm? We live short lives.”

It’s easier said than done but as always, Kakashi’s advise is good advise.

Family, it would seem, is a precious thing. Not that Tenzou has any clue what the hell he should do with one.

“Yes, senpai…”

*

Tenzou comes home and finds Tsunade sipping on flavored spritzers in front of the television, a thick medical book propped open on her lap about psychology. 

“What took you so long?” Tsunade asked, looking over the sofa’s armrest.

“I was summoned,” Tenzou responds. “I have a mission to Snow. I leave tonight.”

“I see,” Tsunade says, her tone oddly carefully. “How long?” Tenzou hesitates, freezing on the spot because that kind of information is something Tsunade shouldn’t be privy to. She may be a sannin but officially, Tenzou doesn’t know if she has the clearance. “Oh don’t give me that look! The least you can do is give me a number and you damn well know it!” She snaps, suddenly quite irritated.

So Tenzou swallows and with great difficulty, he answers, “Four weeks.”

“Now was that so hard?” Tsunade claps the book on her lap shut, rolling up to stand on her feet. “Honestly…”

“I apologize. I meant no--”

“Come on. Let’s get you packing. I know you don’t need my help but I’ll watch you pack! I worked on a few supplements and a new ration bar tailored just for you.”

Tenzou doesn’t know what to say. Supplements? Ration-bars? Just for him?

So he nods, leading the way to his room where he proceeds to prepare his armor, uniform and weapons, all while Tsuande stands there by the door, watching him seal everything into a scroll.

*

That night, as Tenzou stands by the genkan of their home having strapped his boots, Tsunade crosses her arms and asks, “You remember the instructions I gave you about the pills and the ration bar?”

“Take the red one twice a day, the yellow one three times after each ration-bar. I am to consume the brown ration bar for breakfast, the green one for lunch and the dark brown for dinner after my meals, if there is a meal. If there are no meals, I am to consume two bars each. Also, I am to snack on the ration packets you gave me in between travel breaks.” Tenzou parrots, almost verbatim.

“Good.” Tsunade nods. She hesitates for a moment before reaching out to place a hand on the crown of Tenzou’s head. “I know you’re strong. So I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Yes, Okaa-san,” Tenzou answers automatically, because that is the correct way to address Tsunade now, whether he’s ready or not. Delaying the use of her title seems moot.

Nothing prepares Tenzou, however, for the kiss that Tsunade presses to his forehead. It’s quick, gentle, warm, her lips soft against Tenzou’s skin and the fall of his bangs. And just like that she’s stepping back, making a shooing gesture with her manicured hand.

Tenzou swallows all of a sudden, completely discombobulated by the gesture.

But like always, he is quick to recover.

He places his mask on, bows politely at his mother and shunshins away to Konoha’s northern gate.  
  


TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hate? Love? 
> 
> I love 14 yo Tenzou. He's so... SO! IDEK.


	5. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Self-beta'd - might have missed stuff.
> 
> **  
> Some KakaYama from here on in. This means Kakashi is 18 going on 19 and Tenzou is 14 going on 15 in a month or so (this is set in summer so August is just around the corner). So yes, some underage kissing/action ahead. You've been warned.  
> **

Their mission ends up being a very long reconnaissance within the jagged peaks of Snow’s mountains. They are there to report on large scale weaponry mobilization, if any at all. According to the intel, Snow’s leading weapon manufacturer was contracted by Lightning to produce several units of chakra canons. Given Konoha’s background with Lightning, they are there to see if intel is indeed correct or false. Not counting the journey to Snow, they are to observe all activity and travel from all port of entries into Snow, along with the lesser known paths in the mountains for any mobilization, if any at all.

Obviously, Tenzou gets saddled with watching the trail in the mountain peaks with Kakashi. Kakashi had picked the place because he is familiar with it and had used the same route as an escape one failed mission two years ago; based on probability, it is the most likely route Lightning shinobi may take if they truly want to hide their activity. The rest of the team gets divided up into pairs covering the two other ports of entries. Hound’s pack and Falcon’s flock are scattered about the rest of the area monitoring all possible border crossing. Rabbit is the only ANBU assigned solo to watch the factory.

They set up in a cave, high above the obscure and almost invisible travel trail several feet below, hidden under the gentle sway of snow floating off the ground in the cool wind that for now, isn’t an outright blizzard. Above them, the sun shines bright on a semi-cloudy sky. It does nothing to keep them warm though.

Bundled under thermal cloaks, gloves and socks, Tenzou continues to dutifully stare at the path below and around it, keeping his senses stretched wide and open while Kakashi, equally bundled in warm clothing, sits perched on a rock re-reading Icha Icha Paradise. Tenzou has seeds scattered throughout the mountain area; if any sort of noise should pop up, he’d know immediately. 

It’s only been four days and already, it’s a tedious if not boring mission.

The nights, thankfully, remain blizzard free for now.

Normally, on missions like these, Tenzou is smart enough to pack some books to read within a scroll. He has packed some new architecture books to read, along with a book on medicinal herbology that he had found at the public library sometime prior to Tsunade’s untimely arrival to his life. He had been hoping to get started on reading those books but unfortunately, his mind seems to be otherwise preoccupied with the kiss that still lingers on his forehead, a warm ghost’s touch that almost makes him reach up and rub his forehead under the happuri every now and then.

Tenzou doesn’t touch his books.

He doesn’t even make a motion to show any interest in engaging in anything other than staring at the snowy ‘roads’ below, his mind kept company by Tsunade’s actions, her character and the fact that the ration bars are actually so damn delicious -- in comparison to the standard ones issued by ANBU that is. They’re also so incredibly filling for its size; Tenzou finds himself wondering if they’re as good as the Akimichi food pill which, according to rumors, are unparalleled. One would be lucky to try it let alone get their hands on them.

It comes as no surprise on the fifth day of their watching nothing but the sun and moon gleaming over snowy peaks that Kakashi would find Tenzou’s behavior uncharacteristic. Tenzou would be reading books by now. Or drawing.

“Did you forget your books and sketchpad? I’ve got other reading material if you want some,” Kakashi drawls from his favorite rock perch in the cave.

“I’m good, thanks,” Tenzou answers, blinking unseeingly at the distance.

The answer is followed by a long pondering silence. Kakashi flips a page after a minute and then asks, quite warily, “Got something on your mind?”

Tenzou continues to stare at the stretch of white head of him, focusing on the distant sparkle of the glacier sheets under the bright morning sun. Kakashi ought to know how to process this, right? Kakashi had parents once. Surely, he’d be able to provide some sort of insight on how to handle this show of affection? Is it even called that? Honestly, a good-job would have been more than sufficient in terms of acknowledgment. A pat on the shoulder would do too because that’s something Tenzou has gotten a bit more accustomed to in the past year. He didn’t need a kiss. Hell, that head pat thing that Tsunade does would have been okay, too. 

More than enough, even.

But a kiss?

It seemed a little to intimate. Too close. Too personal and in his space.

Kakashi would know a lot about kissing, or its different categories for sure. Tenzou has heard and caught sight of him being pushed against a tree during a long reconnaissance mission to Waterfall last year by Wasp. He’s also caught sight of Kakashi’s head bobbing up and down Rat’s legs right after kissing him. Tenzou knows that kissing belongs to biology, and that it is within human nature to require release and physical touch. Tenzou isn’t an uneducated moron. These biological urges come with age and the sooner it is taken care of, the clearer the mind. Biology, if anything, wasn’t not a topic that was ostracized in Root. If anything, it got the fix-it-handled-it treatment. Tenzou has never handled it personally, but he’s seen, heard, or caught a glimpse of his teammates in passing during missions, at the head quarters or sometimes around the village proper engaging in biology. 

Kakashi is clearly the best person to ask. 

He’d at least be honest and wouldn’t decorate his responses with useless jibes and fun.

“Okaa-san kissed me before I left,” Tenzou says softly, his voice barely above a whisper in the frozen stillness.

“Oh?”

“On the forehead,” Tenzou adds. “I am not sure what to do with the gesture. Is that kind of action normal coming from a maternal figure?”

“You think it’s not? She’s your parent and it wasn’t like it was a passionate kiss, right?” Kakashi asks, and after a beat, he adds, “Right, Tenzou?”

Tenzou turns to look over his shoulder, noting how Kakashi had straightened up from his slouched and relaxed perch by the cave wall, the book now forgotten on his lap, his exposed eye regarding Tenzou with an eerie focus that he only reserves for his enemies. “It was quick. Like how grandparents kiss their grandchildren in the village. It’s not like the way you were kissing Wasp or Rat.”

That earns Tenzou a very long, quiet stare. There’s something in Kakashi’s gaze that shifts, punctuated by a slow blink and a soft hum that could mean anything. Tenzou doesn’t have the current mental energy to decimate the layer upon layer of guardedness Kakashi suddenly has on, nor is he in any mood to interpret Kakashi-silent-speech at the moment. He had enough distractions as it is. If Kakashi doesn’t want to use words, then so be it.

“I’d be worried if it were,” Kakashi responds, clapping his book shut. “Does it bother you? Kisses?”

Tenzou shrugs. “It’s just biology.”

“Really?” Kakashi asks, standing up to join Tenzou’s side, the book lying open on the ground.

“I am aware of how I look like a ten year old, senpai. But that doesn’t make me an idiot. Kisses are a form of intimacy,” Tenzou responds, tossing Kakashi a brief glance and punctuating his sentence with the tilt of his head. 

“Maa, maa,” Kakashi waves a hand, his tone just a touched amused. “If you’re wondering if what Tsunade-hime did is normal, then yes. Does it bother you?” 

“It’s different. But I guess if she’s my mother now, I will have to get used to it,” Tenzou drops his chin over his folded knee-caps, tucking his nose under the warm crook of his arm. “I think she’s trying too hard. She really doesn’t have to…”

“That’s the point of family,” Kakashi sighs, leaning back on his palms and staring up at the white poofs of clouds floating slowly over the clear blue sky. “They try hard for their prevc

“She’s only known me for a month, Senpai,” Tenzou mutters, unable to keep the tinge of amusement from dripping into his tone. Do loud shinobis like Tsunade get attached too quickly? Is that a common trait that he isn’t aware of? Why did Root not include this sort of information in their training?

“True, but then, maybe she sees something in you that you’re not aware of. Or maybe she’s doing this for herself. Who knows? At the end of the day, this is something you have, and like you said, you just have to deal with. If it makes you too uncomfortable, you should probably let her know.”

Tenzou allows himself to exhale slowly, just as he swallows past the cool dryness in the back of his throat and reaches up unconsciously to rub at his forehead. Noticing the action consciously makes him freeze for a heartbeat, before he drops his hand back over his kneecaps. It wasn’t a terrible gesture, per se. Unnecessary, sure. But not terrible. Remembering it makes heat crawl up Tenzou’s cheeks that has nothing to do with the thermal blanket. He’s a bit embarrassed by it because … well, he’s not exactly sure why. 

“It’s all right,” Tenzou murmurs. “I don’t mind it. Kisses.”

“Be careful of that sentence, Tenzou. Or people will take it the wrong way,” Kakashi huffs, picking up his book.

“I’m not too worried, senpai. I don’t think I’ll be at the receiving end of any kisses other than that of my mother.” Tenzou rolls his eyes, before focusing on the gleaming glacier ahead.

“I’d have you on my list,” Kakashi says as he unfolds the dogeared fold on the corner of his book. 

“Sure, senpai,” Tenzou answers, dismissing the statement as nothing more than polite conversation. 

“I’m serious. I find you quite attractive and handsome and it’s got nothing to do with the team’s constant teasing of you looking like a girl,” Kakashi shrugs. Tenzou says nothing, does nothing, until Kakashi says, “Look at me, Tenzou.” Tenzou does, and finds Kakashi had his mask pulled down, his face a mere inch away from his, head slanted, poised for a kiss. “Want me to prove it to you?”

Tenzou blinks once, his gaze dropping to the scar that cuts across the left corner of Kakashi’s upper lip. “Is there a point to this?”

“You tell me,” Kakashi murmurs.

Tenzou makes a decision and leans up, pressing their lips together, unsure of what the hell he is even doing. Not because he wants to but because it’s there and if there is anyone who wouldn’t beat around the bush, it’d be Kakashi. Kakashi would be his best shot at getting information to differentiate between different forms of affection.

Kakashi’s gloved hand comes up to angle Tenzou’s mouth by grasping his chin, prying Tenzou’s pliant mouth with his lips and pushing his tongue into the caverns of Tenzou’s mouth. It’s odd, its wet, it’s a little noisy too. Tenzou keeps his hands exactly where they are on his knee-caps, only allowing his tongue to tentatively brush against Kakashi, and his lips to move against Kakashi’s warmer ones, his neck craned high to meet Kakashi’s. Tenzou focuses on how to breathe with this much close proximity, and only figures it out in the last two seconds before Kakashi pulls back and tilts his head in question, studying Tenzou’s response to this kiss.

“Do I thank you?” Tenzou asks, honestly sincere.

That gets Kakashi _laughing_ , head thrown back, full front throw of implanted teeth exposed as he shakes his head. “Word of advice? Don’t ever ask that when you choose to willingly be with someone for ‘biology’. It’s a real turn off.”

“Oh,” Tenzou blinks a few times. “I apologize, senpai. It wasn’t my intention to turn you off.”

“Wasn’t your intention to turn me on, either,” Kakashi says, picking up his book and patting Tenzou on the shoulder, wandering back to his favorite perch, chuckling the entire time as he tugs his mask back up.

*

Kisses aren’t bad, Tenzou determines by the end of their mission that much to everyone’s silent prediction, honestly goes nowhere. There are no canons.

(Kakashi doesn't bring up any talk of kissing or what happened between them -- then again, Kakashi is cool that way. The mutual understanding between them goes unsaid.)

Kisses from Tsunade are nice.

Kisses from Kakashi are odd, wet, messy, but okay, not bad. Tenzou doesn’t quite get it but understands that it’s supposed to be the start of something more, biologically speaking.. 

For now though, he concludes that would no longer be disturbed by Tsunade’s show of affection. He’ll allow these kisses from Tsunade. Head pats and forehead kisses are something he can easily handle.

(Besides, they’re kind of really nice.)

*

Tenzo arrives at the crack of dawn, a little damp from the summer rain he had encountered enroute into Konoha. He steps into a quiet house, the stillness only disturbed by the shift in the shadows as he moves past the genkan, leaving wet boots behind.

Tsunade’s even and calm presence lingers from within the living room area, something Tenzou bypasses as he climbs the stairs to his bedroom above. Tsunade had a habit of falling asleep in front of the television, only to make faces that depicted silent complaints and discomfort when she woke up. She seems to do that a lot while drinking sake too, amidst her reading, studying and dinner of cup ramen. Tenzou doesn’t get that. Why put physical limitations on one’s self when the simplest solution is to lie in a bed that is not only new, but totally available for use? 

Predictably, Tenzou finds three empty cup ramens littering the center table, and an interesting pile of dirty dishes in the kitchen sink once he comes down after a shower and cleaning up his uniform and armor. The garbage is overflowing with take-out containers, wrappers, and empty bottles -- both alcoholic and non alcoholic. There is some stale fruit in the fruit bowl and upon inspection of the fridge, Tenzou finds his milk carton that had remained untouched and well on its way to growing something strange. Had he known that Tsunade wasn’t going to be using the milk, he would have attempted to finish it before he left four weeks ago. There’s a container of food that looks edible but upon opening the lid, Tenzou almost _gags_.

It goes straight into the garbage.

That he also pulls out and takes out through the kitchen backdoor. 

Tenzou spends the next hour cleaning up, gathering empty containers, beer bottles and cup ramen containers from the living room, the patio and kitchen. When he takes half a garbage bag outside, he finds dusty candy wrappers by the patio table and chairs, forgotten and somehow not blown all over the place. Tsunade must have been reading and snacking outside, then.

The dishes gets cleaned, dried and put away. The counters, floors and chairs gets a wipe down, the rag chasing away the thin layer of dust that had found its way, well, everywhere.

This isn’t exactly different from what Tenzou would do upon return to his shoe box apartment. He does end up cleaning up back then too. It’s just that this is current house has a lot more surface area to cover. 

By the time the sun is clear over the horizon, the house is aired out, Tenzou has completed his cup ramen meal and Tsunade remains snoring her way to glory on the sofa.

It is then that Tenzou makes his way to her, looking over the backrest of their three seater sofa, watching Tsunade sleep, actively debating if he should wake her to go to bed or leave her alone to sleep; let her figure out that crick in her neck when she wakes up, she is a medic after all. Tenzou can offer her some therapeutic patches if she wants; he’s sure that she probably has a technique in her arsenal of jutsus to take care of a little sore muscle. 

Tenzou is just about to reach the conclusion to let her be when Tsunade stirs, cracks an eye open sleepily before she _snort-squawks_ her way to an upright position, her hand moving at lightning speed. One moment, Tenzou is standing behind the sofa, looming over Tsunade’s head, the next he’s arching over the air and sailing across the room into the one seater sofa. He bounces off it, landing on a crouch on all fours on the rug, a little reeled by the sudden change and being _tossed_ over like a stuffed toy. He finds himself looking up at Tsunade, who does not quite resemble the definition of beauty but that of a drunken forest monster. Her hair sticks out in all direction, free from its usual low pigtails. Her eyes wide open, wild, her breath coming out sharp -- she looks like a cat that’s ready to strike and hiss, claw at her opponent. 

“Oh for -- _Tenzou!_ Are you trying to give me a fucking heart attack?” She _snaps_ , carding a hand through her hair and huffing out a long, measured breath. “Good grief! Don’t stare at people while they sleep! That’s creepy!”

Tenzou blinks. 

He’s been home for over an hour now. He’s been cleaning the kitchen and taking the trash out. Surely, his presence would have been detected, right? Tsunade is a sannin. Surely her senses are a lot more keen than his? Her ability stronger? That even if Tenzou is to walk around with his presence compressed and held tight, she’d still feel the disturbance, won’t she? And besides, Tenzou keeps his presence down to a minimum most of the time but it wasn’t like he was hiding? Not at all? 

He clearly shocked Tsunade. He managed to even sneak up on her, judging by the look on her face.

He should probably apologize anyway. “Sorry, Okaa-san. I don’t mean to be creepy.”

“Don’t say that either! My son is not a creep!” Tsunade growls, huffing another breath and dropping herself heavily back on the couch. Predictably, she brings a hand to her neck where Tenzou knew it would be sore. 

Okay?

Tenzou is confused.

Should he not have apologized?

Tenzou straightens up from his crouch and pads over to the kitchen after a moment’s hesitation. He digs out the properly stocked first aid kit from under the sink and takes out the box of therapeutic thermal strips. He pads back to the living room and offers the box with both hands towards Tsunade.

Which she proceeds to stare at for a very long time that Tenzou wonders if she wanted it at all.

“Okay, okay, you got me good and square right there kid,” Tsunade finally responds, rolling her eyes and accepting the box. She then proceeds to take out a strip and strategically place it on the area where her neck meets her shoulder.. “It won’t happen again so don’t let your head get too big. I suppose I can start to teach you the basics of iryo-ninjutsu. Should be a piece of cake for you; the old man told me you’ve got fine chakra control, hmm?”

Tenzou feels cheated. But he wasn’t even trying!

Should he tell her?

It would be the honest thing to do. Aren’t children supposed to be honest with their parents? Or something? Tenzou certainly was honest with Danzou, and remains honest with Sandaime. Why would it be different with Tsunade.

“I don’t think I earned the right to receive training fairly,” Tenzou offers.

“Let me be the judge of that, Tenzou,” Tsunade says, grins at him, reaching out ruffling Tenzou’s hair. “Sorry I threw you across the room.”

Tenzou flushes, one eye squinting as Tsunade continues to ruffle his hair affectionately. “It’s okay.”

“Welcome back though; I’ve missed you, little man. This house is pretty boring without you,” Tsunade adds.

Tenzou flushes even _more_ , the tips of his ears suddenly going red hot, swallowing a little dryly as he looks around the house and what looks like sincere words on Tsunade’s face. “It’s good to be back,” he responds softly, just a touch shy.

And surprisingly, means it.

This house beats snow any day. This house beats everywhere in terms of comfort, actually.  
  


TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am loving writing 14 going on 15 y.o Tenzou. Just. Ugh. Guilty pleasure right now.


	6. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Self-beta'd - might have missed stuff.

Tsunade’s idea of beginning training is to read and memorize data. In the shape of books.

An entire study filled with books.

Other than the library, Tenzou doesn’t think he’s seen this many books inside a home in his entire life. Or an office for that matter. If Tsunade’s idea of training is to ensure that she pumps enough information into Tenzou’s head, well, then, she seems to be on the right track. Tenzou isn’t even quite sure where he is supposed to start.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Tsunade says, looking so damn proud of herself, hands on her hips. “I thought the exact same thing, once, years ago.” 

She must have found it funny because she throws her head back and laughs like a villain out of a drama television episode. Tenzou kind of debates joining in the laughter since that seems to be the thing civilians tend to do in a gathering. He wisely decides not to in the end, as Tsunade catches her breath and catches a laugh tears with a crimson nail. Which is all good because Tenzou doubts he can match Tsunade in this kind of open display of vigorous mirth and booming volume. His vocal chords aren't stretched that much; he honestly debates practicing this for about five seconds.

But then decides that observing and looking like a bug-eyed cat (as Tsuande puts it, but not a creeper) is the best thing to do and await further instructions. Stretching his vocal chords will not yield any positive field results and is therefore useless. 

“Boy, you should have heard my complaints back then. You’re doing wonders. My sensei and mentor would have liked you. You’re quiet.” Tsunade shakes her head. “Well! I sure hope you like reading!”

She guffaws again, clearly finding the situation funny.

Tenzou casts the now appointed study for his training on the ground floor, just next to the living room a weary stare. “I do enjoy reading.” He admits. Because he does. Most of his knowledge pertaining to hobbies involves a lot of self study and a lot of reading. This isn’t any different.

Tsunade’s hand comes over Tenzou’s hand all of a sudden, ruffling his hair making Tenzou squint with the gesture. “These are very dry reading materials. They’re not like the comics you kids these days read. Or romantic adventure thriller novels. Or whatever the hell that’s trending now.” 

“I read reference books from the library. I tried to read Icha Icha Paradise--”

“ _What?”_

Tenzou takes a step back when Tsunade bends over to stare at his face, their noses almost touching. He goes cross-eyed for a moment, before blinking rapidly to regain focus. But Tsunade remains in his space, here eyebrows sloping downwards angrily, a flush on her cheeks and her full breasts mere centimeters away from smacking Tenzou in the face.

“O-Okaa-san--”

“Who gave you that garbage? Granted it’s got some interesting adventurous story telling but I will not -- I repeat -- I will not have you reading _that pervert’s_ \--” Tsunade straightens all of a sudden, almost giving her own spine whiplash and stomps away angrily down the hall. Before wandering right back and continuing her explosive line of inquiry. “-- Tenzou. Do not touch the Icha Icha series. Now tell me, and don’t lie. Who offered you this reading material and what bookstore?”

“It was Kakashi-senpai,” Tenzou answers just as she sees Tsunade’s eyes bug out, her mouth opening to probably explode some more. Tenzou beats her to it. “I understand it’s a book that only a person of legal age can purchase. But I read it and gave it back to senpai. It wasn’t very interesting and provided no information that may be of any use in the field. I told him as much and he found it funny.”

“No use in the field -- okay, so, you read the entire book and it didn’t bother you?” Tsunade looks surprised, her long lashes fluttering as she rolls her eyes with exasperation. “And don’t be embarrassed. I am only asking for a yes or no answer.”

Tenzou finds himself rubbing the back of his head, a gesture he catches himself doing before squishing it down immediately. This woman is truly the epitome of confusing. “No.”

“ _No_?” Tsunade sounds astonished. 

“No.” Tenzou repeats, now wondering if that is the wrong answer to such a thing. Should Icha Icha Paradise have bothered him? Reading through the texts, he doesn’t quite get why Kakashi would blush and giggle at some of the scenes. Or why Gai’s nose would bleed every time he read over Kakashi’s shoulders. Or how some of the other ANBU, when they do read it, would often chuckle. Some of the jokes does seem witty, so maybe, in that regard, Tenzou can understand why it may be funny to some people. It just wasn’t so much to him.

“Aren’t you fourteen going on fifteen?” Tsunade asks, a look seriousness crossing her expression as she kneels down on the polished wooden floors, towering at her full upper body height so she can meet Tenzou’s eyes. 

“Yes. I will be fifteen in August,” Tenzou confirms, nodding. “Why?”

“And you didn’t feel any sexual urges, no warm feeling around the stomach area while reading it? Not even a tinge of an erection?” 

Is _that_ why Kakashi blushes? Huh. Interesting that a book that includes pegging, bondage, rough and passionate sex would have that effect on Kakashi. 

Tenzou shakes his head and watches as that weird expression crosses Tsunade’s face again. It’s that slightly put-upon look mixed with concern and peppered with analyzing concentration. Tenzou wonders if it has something to do with his growth, and why he’s so small compared to others in his age group.

“Do you like anybody, Tenzou?” 

“I like you, I guess,” Tenzou responds, which isn’t a lie. Tsunade isn’t bad. Just strange.

Which earns him a bit of an amused chuckle and a gentle pat-rub on the curve of his shoulder. “And I like you too, don’t doubt that. What I meant was, do you find a certain someone attractive?”

“You’re attractive,” Tenzou answers, rubbing the back of his head again. He had no reason to lie.

Tsunade blinks several times then shakes her head, clearly trying to smother her amusement. “Let me try this again. Tenzou, my dearest, cutest son, do you find anyone - other than me, because I am your mother - attractive in the sense that, for example, when they’re around the room you find yourself staring at them? When they’re not around, you find yourself thinking about them? You have dreams about them that leave you feeling feverish in the mornings?” Tenzou _stares_ Tsunade. “For example, do you find your Kakashi-senpai attractive?”

“He’s not disfigured,” Tenzou answers after a pause, recalling Kakashi’s face under the mask. “He has a few scars but then, all shinobi do. A lot of the people on my team and ANBU finds him attractive. But I’ve never thought of him that way.”

“Why’s that?”

Tenzou’s answer comes out without a stutter. “Well, he’s my senpai and since I’ve moved under Sandaime’s command, he’s earned the position as the man I respect the most after the Hokage. He is a thorough commander on the field and very intelligent and hard working. He is able to adapt to the Sharingan despite not being of Uchiha bloodline. He manages himself well, gives good advice and listens to people. When I was new, he guided me through adapting into Team Ro. He still does even though he doesn’t have to. This is why I respect him.” 

“So you don’t think he’s cute at all,” Tsunade concludes.

Tenzou makes a bit of a face, his lips twisting just the tiniest bit to one side like he’s just tasted something odd. Calling Kakashi cute seemed off if not outright wrong. Little animals can be called cute, he supposes. Pan had been cute whenever he tried to jump but couldn’t reach much altitude, if at all (his legs were too short). Pan was also cute when he fell on his butt. 

(But then, Pan was an idiot who knew nothing except, well, being a dog.) 

Kakashi is no small animal. If anything, the guy is a practical beast in the field. He lives up to his ANBU codename of Hound. He’s a force to be reckoned with. Someone who fits that kind of description cannot be shoved under the title of cute. Nothing about Kakashi’s face is cute, either. Not his sharp eyes and angular jaw, his high cheekbones and pointed nose. Not the scar that cuts over his upper left lip, nor the one that cuts down his left eye. Not his lopsided grin when he’s bemused and certainly not the heated way he had looked at Tenzou’s lips with interest weeks ago, just to prove a point. 

“I wouldn’t call Kakashi-senpai cute, no. Attractive, perhaps but not cute,” Tenzou responds after careful consideration; he finds himself pleased with what he thinks seems to be an accurate assessment. He should probably verify it one more time just to be sure the next time he sees Kakashi.

Tsunade hums, lowering herself to sit cross legged on the small hallway. “You’re sure?”

Tenzou nods. “I am sure. I felt no biological reaction even after Kakashi-senpai kissed me.”

“Kissed -- what do you mean -- _that Hatake brat did_ **_what_ ** _?_ ”

Tenzou _winces_ , taking an involuntary step back. Tsunade’s outrage trembles throughout the house. So loud were the words that Tenzou swears a flock birds had taken flight from the katsura trees in their garden. He blinks rapidly, not used to this kind of disciplinary action because neither Danzou nor the Sandaime has ever had to raise their voice like this. Tenzou finds himself holding his breath, going incredibly still at the sudden towering presence of a skilled shinobi pacing the hallway brusquely, angrily, her hands wringing an invisible neck between her hands, her knuckles white.

“Did he ask permission? Did he use his tongue? Did you feel it tickle down your throat, boy? Did he look at you funny? Did you even want to be kissed? Because if not, I swear to the gods and everything holy and his father who better be turning in his damn grave right now, that I will chop off his eenie-weenie little _dick_ , stuff it into his goddamn smart mouth _,_ ” Tsunade _booms_ , “then chop him to small pieces and feed him to the dogs he calls his summons! While he watches!” 

Tsunade looks livid.

There’s a flush on the apples of her cheeks. The tips of her ears are dusted red, and sure enough, she sends a punch against one of the wooden panels in their hallway, her fist going right through. 

“I said okay!” Tenzou manages to say, the loudest he’s been, his throat feeling a little raw as he raises his voice and hopes that it’d cut through all the noise filling the house.

It works.

Tsunade turns to look down at him, fire still burning in her eyes.

Almost immediately, Tenzou drops to his knees into a seiza sitting position, lowering his head to the floorboards the same way he always have to whenever Danzou is about deliver his disciplinary action. Tenzou closes his eyes, evens out his breathing, palms relaxed on the surface of the wood, an exhale leaving him slowly as he braces himself for what’s to come. Tenzou isn’t afraid. He probably deserves the punishment for going against what seems to be his mother’s wishes for him.

Except nothing happens.

Nothing that Tenzou is used to anyway.

A gentle hand comes upon Tenzou’s shoulder, urging him to sit up and straighten. That soft hand cups both his cheeks, making him look up at Tsunade whose expression looks a little pinched, her head shaking and something like pity, understanding and something a little cold glimmering over the surface of her eyes.

“Don’t ever kneel before anyone, except the Hokage. You bow to no one, Tenzou, not even me,” Tsunade says, her voice soft, yet firm, unyielding, confident. “You fear nobody. You bow to nobody. Do you understand?”

Tenzou is wide eyed, but he understands. Tsunade wouldn’t want a weak son. Being weak, fearful and succumbing isn’t the way of the Shodaime, the Senjuu. It’s understandable. That’s what it means to be a legend, doesn’t it?

“Yes Okaa-saan,” Tenzou says, the words whisper soft. “I apologize for upsetting you.”

“You silly boy!” Tsunade pinches his cheeks, rotating the little bit of fat between her fingers, making a noise in her throat. “I am not upset. Though, I may have overreacted. Sensei has spent years telling me to manage that, but heh. Get used to it.” Tenzou keeps still as Tsunade continues to pinch his cheeks and then proceeds to pull him into a hug. “But if you say you asked for it, well, then you asked for it, I guess. Did you like it?”

“It was weird and wet,” Tenzou murmurs, staying completely still while being mushed into Tsunade’s very ample bosom.

That gets Tsunade’s laughing and squeezing just short of suffocation. “It’s meant to be. You’ll understand once you actually kiss someone you _want_ to _truly_ kiss. It won’t be weird and just wet when it’s someone you like and they like you back, hmm? You’ll enjoy it then. Remember, there’s always a difference.”

“Yes, Okaa-san,” Tenzou chokes, holding his breath.

“Gods, you are just a little too adorable! I wish you’d stay this cute and small forever! Sooner or later, I don’t think I’d be able to hug you like this anymore! So I will take full advantage, you hear me?!” Tsunade squeezes even more, nuzzling the top of Tenzou’s head with her cheek. 

“You really think so?” Tenzou asks, a little incredulously and a little hopeful, still holding his breath.

The question prompts Tsunade to hold Tenzou at arm’s length, raising an eyebrow. “Of course!”

“Oh, that’s good, I suppose,” Tenzou answers, sucking a lungful of air as quietly as he can manage without giving off the notion that he was being suffocated just seconds ago between Tsunade’s breasts. He wouldn’t want to offend her. Or worse, have her shouting again. Or punching another wall. “Okaa-san, I am aware that I am smaller than my peers. I assume that my stunt in growth has something to do with being an experiment. Even biologically, judging from the ages of peers and the reactions of my peers, it seems my puberty is affected as well. I don’t have an Adam’s apple yet. I still sound like I’m ten years old. I’ve been advised by ANBU physicians to focus on nutrition, and I have been. But nothing seems to work. I’m still small and… slow in growing.”

“I know,” Tsunade nods, sighing and dropping herself yet again to a cross-legged sitting position in their hallway. She motions with her hand for Tenzou to do the same, which he promptly does. “And that’s no fault of yours. Sometimes our environment can affect our puberty. Let me use myself as an example. As shinobi, we are subjected to rigorous physical training at a very young age. This becomes a constant. As a result, puberty amongst kunoichi is delayed, not because there’s anything wrong with them physically, but the environment alters the body’s physiology. Where a normal civilian female may begin to menstruate anywhere between twelve to thirteen on average, the normal age range for a kunoichi would be much higher than that. It’s the same with males. Puberty tends to hit a little earlier than civilian boys because of the level of testosterone in the body, which is further increased because of our shinobi, not to mention chakra training. So you have boys as young as twelve having their voice breaking and their Adam’s apple growing. It really depends how early the training starts. You are a little different. On top of already very early shinobi training, you were exposed to a lot of chemicals as an infant. The medics weren’t wrong when they asked you to focus on nutrition. And I have no doubts that you were as well. There’s nothing wrong with being a slow grower. There’s nothing wrong with being small. Small doesn’t mean weak, right?”

Tenzou listens with rapt attention, nodding slowly, absorbing the information like a sponge as something in chest swells that tastes a little too much like hope. He wants to be taller, he wants to be bigger. He doesn’t want to be picked on anymore. He wants to lead, too. Not that it really matters in the grand scheme of things. Still, it’d be nice to be a little taller.

“It shouldn’t,” Tenzou answers, swallowing and dropping his gaze to hands. 

“It shouldn’t,” Tsunade repeats. “You got that planner right?”

“Yes, Okaa-san,” Tenzou nods. The planner had to be put on hold because Tenzou had leave for a mission right after purchasing it.

“Well, I don’t want you to think I’m not looking into your growth; which reminds me, how were the rations and pills I gave you?”

“They were delicious,” Tenzou says, his chest puffing a little bit in memory of eating them. He’s never found anything so appetizing like those ration bars; he doesn’t even know what Tsunade included in it to make it taste so good. 

“Right? My secret recipe!” Tsunade _grins_ , looking quite pleased with herself. “I’m working on figuring out how to bulk and shred you. Don’t worry. I got your back! Watch out Konoha, before you know it, my son is going to be a stud muffin walking your damn streets! Beware!”

Tenzou’s cheeks heat up, as he licks his lips and ducks his head, swallowing a little shyly. He doesn’t know what a stud muffin is but it sounds a little cool. It might be nice, being a stud muffin. It sounds strong yet approachable! Tenzou doesn’t mind that. 

“Thank you, Okaa-san,” Tenzou murmurs, his cheeks staining a darker red, as excitement for Tsunade’s plan to help him lean and buff up flares in his stomach. He can’t wait for the coming years. He can’t wait to be taller!

“Go get your planner. We’re going to discuss what I had hoped to discuss weeks ago over lunch! I want to go to that cute cafe on Tea Avenue, the one with the lace and confetti! Hurry up! I hear they make excellent brunch!”

“Yes, Okaa-san!” 

*

The cafe is covered in lace, ribbons, pastel colored pastries and large, cound glass ornaments filled with pastries decorated in confetti. It’s bright, it smells powdery sweet, and it is filled to the brim with a very young and very female crowd. One side of the wall is decorated hand painted pastry collage in hues blue, pink, mint green and soft yellow. One side of the glass window is lined with freshly baked pastries that are for sale. The scent of fresh coffee and toasted sandwiches hangs subtly just under the powdery sugar.

It’s an odd place to grab lunch.

But Tenzou doesn’t care.

Clutching his planner like a lifeline, he follows Tsunade to a corner seat that faces the window and pastry on display. Tsunade orders them both sandwiches and tea, a plate of something foreign and sweet in chocolate, raspberry and pistachio. 

The moment their waiter leaves with their orders, Tsunade instructs Tenzou to take notes.

He is to take his measurements around the thigh, ankle, wrist and chest every two weeks. He is going to continue taking on the pills and bars regularly when he is in the village. He is to make sure that he consumes a very calorically dense diet. Tenzou’s hands goes a little numb as Tsunade dictates the kind of meat, vegetable, fruit and dairy he should be getting most of his nutrition from, writing non-stop even when their waiter come back with their order. 

Tsunade asks him to describe what his typical maintenance training is like. She doesn’t seem disappointed when Tenzou explains his training routine. Instead, she gives him suggestions that involve a lot of weight training to add, staggering the schedule every other day as opposed to everyday. She increases the dose of Tenzou’s pills on the days he does additional weight training. She suggests that he keeps his reading during his resting period, or if he can manage, while actively resting. 

Because ANBU missions are unpredictable, Tsunade allows for flexibility in his training. She is to oversee him the first few rounds of physical training if they’re both in the village at the same time.

It is then that Tenzou learns that Tsunade has agreed with Sandaime to start being field active once more.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure our kitchen is stashed generously with everything you’ll ever need. A day won’t come where you’re short on supplements,” Tsunade smiles, finishing the last of her sandwich and dusting her fingers on her pastel purple plate.

Tenzou nods slowly, his wrist just a touch sore from all the writing and plethora of instructions he already has memorized before setting his pen down. “Do you have a mission soon?”

“Not yet, but I’m bound to get one sooner or later,” Tsunade mutters, shrugging and twisting her lips a little bit as she takes a sip of her coffee. “This place isn’t bad. A little over hyped, but not bad. What do you think?”

“It’s…” Tenzou looks around the place, taking note of the soft colorful hues and lace, “... colorful.”

Tsunade snorts. “You’re studying architecture and that’s all you have to say?”

“It’s just a little..” Tenzou trails off, as his gaze comes to a stop at the counter and cash registry, where a familiar stranger is staring quite excitedly at a slice of cake being wrapped in a box in front of him. It’s the stranger at the bookstore, the one who prevented Tenzou from buying that yellow planner. The one who showed him where the plain planners were. Tenzou watches as dimples begin to dot the stranger’s cheeks, as he leans on the counter with his forearms and elbows, neck craned as he watches the box being wrapped with flourish and a silky ribbon. 

“A little?”

“Unnecessarily loud,” Tenzou says, blinking and ripping his gaze away from the stranger before he’s caught staring. The delivery of the words is smooth, the pause 

But Tsunade isn’t foolish. Tenzou watches her cock her eyebrow, following his initial line of sight, which he does too once again, to find that stranger turning to meet his gaze, a flash of recognition appearing on his face. Almost immediately, the bright smile spreads on his face, a bit of a flush on his tanned cheeks that makes the line across his nose turn just a little whiter. The dimples on his cheeks hollow even further, teeth peeking out from under those lips. Tenzou is caught off guard by the openness of that smile, at how genuinely happy the stranger seem to be to see him again. The stranger waves, before he is distracted by the counter attendant. 

“Is he a friend?” Tsunade asks, her tone interested.

“I don’t know him. But he helped me at the stationary store,” Tenzou responds, watching as the stranger takes his paperbag from the counter attendant, turn to him once more and smile again, waving and mouthing a bye, as he exits the store.

“Well that’s a shame, he seems friendly,” Tsunade shrugs, picking up her tea cup. After a sip, she adds. “Cute smile, huh?”

“It’s probably the dimples,” Tenzou answers, as he returns to his sandwich, and proceeds to reread the notes on his planner with excitement. He feels rather than sees the weight of Tsunade’s stare. He looks up to meet her gaze, something like bemusement in those honey-brown depths that makes Tenzou tilt his head in silent inquiry.

”Nothing,” Tsunade huffs with a ghost of a smile lingering over rouged lips, clearly amused by something. By what, Tenzou has no clue. She tends to get amused about a lot of things that Tenzou doesn’t quite understand. “Finish your sandwich. These suck.” Tsuande gestures at the three coloured merengue sweets on a plate. “We’re getting ice cream when you’re done from across the street.”  
  
Tenzou eyes the round merengue dessert and takes a bite off the green pistachio one. It is so noxious my sweet and nothing even remotely close to pistachio that he almost gags. He swallows with great difficulty and just a whisper of disgust; plain sugar would be better than this.

When he looks up he finds Tsunade giving him the I-told-you-so look.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Tenzou. You have no idea what kind of beef cake you grow up to be. NO IDEA!


	7. Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Self beta'd.

If Tenzou is to compare how his training sessions goes between Tsunade and Danzou, he would say there really isn’t much of a difference in terms of intensity. Tsunade is strict, target oriented and very calculating. She analyses Tenzou’s movement and body like a hawk. She monitors his progress with precision focus only a renowned medic would have. 

The difference is what follows after the training.

Danzou had been dismissive, merely nodding if he had been satisfied by the results of the day’s training before turning his back and walking away. He would tap his cane if he wasn’t pleased and tap it twice if it means that he is so displeased that it means no dinner and a day of isolation to ponder upon the mistakes made during training and to come up with a strategy to avoid it after forty eight hours of water fasting. Because a shinobi who makes mistakes will be hindered by injury. Danzou made sure to strategically train all his children on how to evade and counter act that mistake with a clouded mind and a weakened body, because that’s what happens in the field.

Nobody wants to fast and endure rigorous training. It’s a domino effect of failure upon failure until one breaks out of that cycle (somehow) or die trying.

So more often than not, the mistake gets corrected immediately. 

Danzou has successfully drilled adaptability into his children. Tenzou continues to reap the benefits of that training.

Tsunade however, claps her notebook shut, tucks the pen she’s been scribbling with all day and then yawns as wide and unladylike (a bit like a sleepy hippopotamus, Tenzou thinks). She then bends a little backwards to crack her spine, tilts her neck left and right to crack her neck then ends it all by exhaling like a horse, her lips fluttering quite animatedly.

“Fuuuuuuuu, I haven’t supervised training like this since… well. Since. I forget how tiring this can be! What do you say, boy, should we head home, freshen up and go grab dinner? You did really well today. How are your legs?”

Tenzou had not been expecting that.

He figured Tsunade would dismiss him, they’d go their separate ways and he’d start reading those pile of books in the study. Instead, he’s left staring up at his mother, the burn in his legs, his arms, his back and his chest, and all of his outer extremities throbbing with fatigue. There’s a slight tremble going through his body, leaving his hands shaking. Hands that are forced to come up when Tsunade tosses him a small overly sweetened juice packet, motioning for him to drink it now. Right now.

Tenzou does so.

And it’s gross.

But he drinks like an obedient soldier and a parched man in the desert. 

“Hurts doesn’t it? Everywhere?” Tsunade grins, and Tenzou finds himself shrinking in and on himself.

It’s been a long time since he’s done this kind of rigorous training. Going through obstacle courses in the midst of sparring taijutsu while being weighed down by weights twice his own mass -- he hasn’t done something like this since Root. Most of his trainings were team oriented or sparring sessions with Kakashi. But to have a tailor made training session just for him and his ability? 

Tenzou exhales slowly through his nose, as he pulls the straw away from his lips and swallows. “I haven’t done something like this since Root,” he admits.

“I’m not surprised,” Tsunade glibly replies. “You do need time off to focus on this kind of training. Make sure to take a cold shower. And if you still hurt later, we’ll get an ice bath going for you.”

Tenzou nods, crumpling the empty juice packet. “Okaa-san, I am okay with the plan you suggested.”

“Hmm?”

“Going home, freshening up and then dinner.” Tenzou repeats.

“Oh good. I was starting to wonder if maybe you didn’t want to hang out with your mother anymore, after having spent the entire day with me.” Tsunade tips her head towards the direction of the training area exit, walking as she does so, Tenzou by her side.

“Is that something I’m supposed to do?” Tenzo asks, not pausing in his steps as he regards Tsunade with curiosity. He doesn’t mind spending time with her. It’s been a very effective day. He’s used parts of him that he hasn’t quite used in a long time.

“Most kids tend to try to avoid hanging out with their parents, especially when they’re your age. I remember dodging mine like the plague,” Tsunade says, something distant crossing her features for just a moment. “Now that I’m older and they’re gone, I kind of wish I did. Spend more time with them, I mean.”

“I like spending time with you,” Tenzou states, soft and polite, a flush dusting over his ears at the open admission. “Today was a good day.”

That makes Tsunade stop dead in her tracks, her eyes wide and something a lot softer, maybe even delicate peeking through the honey depths of her eyes. She suddenly looks a lot older, mature, a woman who's seen too much war, too much blood and far too many deaths. Tenzou finds himself stopping too, turning to look behind him and wondering if perhaps he’d said the wrong thing. Tsunade’s lips part, as if she wants to say something. She purses them instead, chewing her lower lip before she shakes her head, smothering a smile and suddenly running up to Tenzou and picking him bodily off the ground, tucking his entire frame under an arm like he’s nothing more than a small sack of rice. Tenzou doesn't move, bracing his core instead, even as a flush paints itself all over his face and neck.

“Heh! Say that to me again tomorrow and I’ll believe you!” 

*

Tenzou says it again the next day, except it comes out just a touch pinched.

He _aches_ all over. 

Walking up stairs is a challenge.

His fingers would protest whenever he would use cutlery. 

Sitting down on a toilet is a feat all on its own. Getting up from it is an even bigger feat.

But he says it all the same and finds himself appeased when a flush blooms over Tsunade’s cheeks. She hides it by shooing him towards the dojo, where she proceeds to assist him in several extremely painful stretches and channels chakra into his sore muscles.

Tenzou falls asleep somewhere between Tsunade pressing pressure points on his back while holding the child's pose.

And wakes up startled in his bedroom in the middle of the night, tucked under the covers, a tall glass of water waiting for him by the bedside and a note that tells him his mother has been summoned by the Hokage.

*

The ache in Tenzou’s body is nothing more than a dull throb come the next morning, something that he knows will disappear by the end of the day. 

He comes down to the kitchen that morning, finding Tsunade reading a scroll and dressed in the standard issue jounin uniform, her hair secured in two tight pigtails and a forehead protector tied securely across her forehead. She is eating slightly burnt toast and butter, washing it down with a cup of steaming hot coffee alongside a banana. There is a travelling utility belt and pack on the counter, and upon glance at the genkan, a pair of travelling boots.

“Okaa-san?” Tenzou murmurs, a little surprised by the uniform. Tsunade looks very different in jounin uniform. She looks even more intimidating. 

“I’ll be gone for three days. Rain.” Tsunade rolls up the scroll she’s been reading and tucks into one of the utility pouches on her travel-belt. “They might send you off somewhere before I get back, though.”

“I understand,” Tenzou responds, as he sits on one of the many wooden kitchen stools, helping himself to some fruit from the fruit bowl. “I will continue the training plan you left me with, Okaa-san. And the reading. Until they send me out.”

“Don’t forget to have fun too,” Tsunade points out. “I’ll be gone so you can invite your friends over.” 

“Invite… them over?” Tenzou blinks, not quite understanding the concept. It's not like there's an occassion, so what is the purpose of inviting them over?

“Yeah,” Tsunade says, humming a bit in thought. “Movie marathons, tv show marathons, take out dinner, maybe. We have a dojo if taijutsu sparring is something you do with your friends. Or teammates. You know, just hang out. They are welcome here. This _is_ your home, too, you know? I’d like for you to use the house as you see fit. Of course, I’m not just saying this because I’ll be gone. I’d like for you to do all that too when I’m around. Don’t worry, I won’t embarrass you or anything.” Tsunade rolls her eyes, pointedly fussing with her utility belt and standing to strap it into place.

Tenzou watches her, turning the suggestion over in his head. Who would he even ask to come over to watch a movie and have dinner? Kakashi? Lynx? Falcon? He wouldn’t want to ask Rabbit or Owl, of all people. Certainly not Rat or Mammoth. Tenzou doesn’t think inviting the Hokage to such a thing would be proper, either. Or would it?

Maybe he’ll just ask Kakashi. 

“Okay?” Tenzou acquiesce, until he can actually put the everything into action later. 

“Good!” Tsunade says and reaches over to wrap her arms around Tenzou, pressing a loud and exaggerated kiss to the crown of his head. It leaves Tenzou flushed to the roots of his hair, embarrassment flooding his entire system. “I’ll see you in a few days! Be good!” 

“Yes Okaa-san,” Tenzou murmurs, swallowing thickly when she releases him. He putters after her towards the genkan, watching her strap her boots on. When she straightens, he gives her a small nod and dips his head in respect. “Be safe on your travels.”

Tsunade grins, and Tenzou can’t help but have his lips twitch up to the barest hint of a smile in return.

*

With Tsunade gone, the Senju estate suddenly seems far too big and far too quiet. The lack of her presence makes the quietness almost eerie and unnatural, graveyard like and abandoned. By nature, Tenzou is a quiet person. He didn’t realize how accustomed he had become to all the racket Tsunade seems to bring along with her until she had gone for her mission.

True to his word, he diligently works through the training plan Tsuande had designed for him.

He eats his ration bars, supplements and food pills on time along with a recommended caloric intake of food. He cleans the house, restores order, and takes out the trash.

Come evening, he goes out to hunt for Kakashi.

Only to be told that Kakashi has been sent out on a solo mission the day before and won’t be back for a while. 

With Kakashi scratched out of his list, Tenzou goes on to hunt down Lynx and Falcon, only to find them dressed in their jounin garb, chatting to each other on the street and heading towards a bar where a group of people begins to wave them over. Not the kind of person to want to disrupt people from their plans, Tenzou decides to leave Genma (Lynx) and Raidou (Falcon) be. He will have to try again tomorrow, or otherwise, report this attempt at having friends or teammates over to the house as a failure to his mother.

Something about that makes him frown.

He does not want to fail this.

Why did they have to send Kakashi away so soon?!

Not that Kakashi would have agreed to come anyway, but still, at least Tenzou could have actually put some action into what was required of him to do. At the very least, he can actually present Kakashi with the invitation, whether he accepts it or not. Tenzou can safely say that he exerted effort from his side.

Disappointed and a bit miffed that he may end up reporting a failure, Tenzou proceeds to take a stroll down Tea Avenue, debating what to have for dinner as he passes by the numerous eateries on the way. This is where he chances upon a small ramen stand, something he’s always walked past but never quite tried. Steam wafts past the side window, the smell of creamy miso and grilled pork catching his senses. He’s already walked past several food establishments. He might as well procure a meal from this Ichiraku Ramen.

Just before Tenzou can make a solid decision and step under the fall of the white and crimson noren, he overheard a bemused call of his name, and turns to find the Sandaime smoking his pipe, approaching his direction.

“Oh, Tenzou, how have you been?” Sandaime asks, eyes crinkling in kind inquiry.

“Hokage-sama,” Tenzou bows politely, straightening when he hears the old man chuckle.

“Here to grab dinner?” Sandaime tips his head at the direction of the ramen stand. 

“Yes,” Tenzou confirms, desperation making him honestly debate in asking the Hokage over to the estate for dinner. “I have never tried it before.” 

“They say the finest ramen in Konoha,” Sandaime says and then leans in to whisper, “but don’t let anyone know I said that or they’ll think I’m handing out favors!” 

Tenzou doesn’t get the joke, but nods as Sandaime laughs at his own humor. Or attempt at humor. Tenzou isn’t quite sure. But he won’t be tattling about Sandaime's favorite ramen place to anyone, that’s for sure. Tenzou decides that asking and getting a no to the invitation would suffice for now. Tenzou knows failure when he sees one. It doesn’t stop him from trying, though.

(He wouldn’t just lie down and wait for the enemy to slit his throat if he was severely injured. He’d crawl and still fight tooth and nail for survival. Why should this be any different?)

“Hokage-sama, would you like to have dinner and then tea at the estate?” Tenzou asks, standing rigidly straight as he delivers the question, his eyes wide as he holds his breath in anticipation.

“Hmm? At your home?” Sandaime asks, taking a drag out of his pipe. “Thank you, Tenzou. Though the invitation is quite sudden. Is there an occasion tonight?” Tenzou blinks. For once, he’s at a loss for words. Smartly, he remains quiet. His hesitation in delivering an answer gets noticed by the Hokage, whose eyes crinkles in soft understanding, peppered with a little bit of amusement. “I am supposed to meet a young friend here but it seems he is running late. Meanwhile, why don’t we step inside and you can tell me what Tsunade put you up to, hmm?”

“Yes, Hokage-sama,” Tenzou swallows.

He can’t possibly turn down the inquiry of the Hokage.

How could he?

*

And so Tenzou explains his dilemma, including his failure to extend an invitation to Hound, Lynx and falcon, which earns him a quiet, but understanding nod and a soft bemused hum.

“While I am flattered you’d consider asking me as a friend, I am afraid I will have to turn the invitation down. You see, my grandson is spending the weekend at our house tonight. My wife wouldn’t be pleased if I am not present in time for my grandson’s arrival,” Sandaime laughs, head thrown back and the rim of his hat tipping backwards just the tiniest bit. Tenzou doesn’t think he’s ever seen the Hokage this relaxed. “I should introduce you to my friend.”

“Your… friend?” Tenzou blinks, confused.

“Might be more right for you to invite those who fall under your age group, hmm? He’s an excellent mahjong player. Do you play mahjong, Tenzou?”

“I’ve never tried.” Tenzou admits, though he knows of the game.

“Ah, then he should teach you. Iruka-kun’s skills in teaching is actually quite impressive. If you learn from him, you’ll be quite skilled in no time,” Sandaime says, sounding quite impressed if not outright proud. “Maybe if you end up getting along, you can convince him to consider being an Academy teacher. I’ve been trying and he just won’t listen. He's quite stubborn.” 

Which further surprises Tenzou when a familiar, flushed and slightly sweaty face ducks under the fall of the white and crimson noren, followed by a breathless exclamation of shameful surprise. “Ah! Hokage-sama, I’m sorry I’m late!”

“Ah, Iruka-kun,” Sandaime turns, smiling widely as he gestures towards the empty seat. “We’ve started with out you. Meet Tenzou. Tenzou-kun, this is my young friend, Iruka-kun.

A soft gasp leaves Iruka’s mouth as he locks gazes with Tenzou who looks equally surprised. It’s the boy from the stationary store and the cafe!

“Hi!” Iruka greets, grinning widely. “Umino Iruka. It’s nice for meet you again, Tenzou-kun~!”

“Ah -- yes, ah, hello,” Tenzou answers softly, dipping his head in greeting. “Senju Tenzou. It’s nice to meet you, Iruka-kun...”

“Iruka-kun, it’s Tenzou-kun’s first time here at Ichiraku and he seems to have not been able to make up his mind on what to order. Why don’t you tell him about your special order and then he can decide if he wants to try it, hmm?” Sandaime nudges, tipping his chin at the laminated menu tucked under the fiberglass countertop. 

“Sure! This is what I always get! I’m a ramen expert! Aren’t I, old-man?” Iruka grins, motioning Tenzou over to look at the menu together. “You have to get the extra pork and extra egg slices, then we have to kind mush one egg--”

*

Tenzou has never been so out of his element than that evening, nursing the biggest bowl of ramen and listening to Iruka narrate a D-class mission that had gone relatively disastrous since it had involved hunting for a client’s jeweled necklace in a large body of stinky, sticky and very stagnant water. Tenzou can sympathize, and thinks Iruka has done a very good job in scrubbing himself clean. There was a time when Tenzou had to hide in a swamp to get away from enemies tracking him. Washing that filth off had taken hours.

Iruka is about as loud as the time Tenzou had first seen him. Perhaps even louder than Tsunade. Or maybe on par. He smiles openly, laughs openly, grins and tells a lot of jokes that makes even the Hokage and owner of the establishment chuckle. He’s animated, like those actors in television dramas, so unlike some of the people in ANBU. He’s bright, witty and doesn’t talk over Tenzou’s head. In fact, it’s impressive how inclusive Iruka behaves, asking Tenzou questions about what are the best ways to wash out swamp filth, or asking for feedback on how to deescalate an angry and impatient rich client.

It’s nice. 

Iruka is like Kakashi. 

He doesn’t view Tenzou as part of a wall. Or the floor.

He includes Tenzou.

Which is rare in and of itself. 

Tenzou finds himself listening with rapt attention, absorbing this stranger’s energy as he swallows mouthful after mouthful of noodles and broth of Iruka’s ‘special order’. This had to be the best ramen bowl he’s ever had! No wonder the Hokage loves this place! As expected of the Hokage, he knows where the best things are! Sandaime is knowledgeable even about things like ramen. 

Tenzou decides that he would order this exact order again. In fact, he’s going to tell Kakashi about it! Surely, Kakashi wouldn’t know about it!

“Well, I’ll leave you two here as alas, I must go,” Sandaime announces, once he’s done with his tea. “Iruka-kun, until our next match. Tenzou-kun, my thanks to your invitation and regards to your mother when she safely returns.”

“Bye old man!” Iruka grins. “Thanks for dinner!” 

That surprises Tenzou. The meal has been paid for. 

To have a meal paid by the Hokage -- he is _honored_. He stands up and bows, swallowing thickly when Sandaime simply reaches out and gently pats him on the shoulder, giving it one last reassuring squeeze, punctuated by a small fond smile. Tenzou watches the old man dip his head under the fall of the noren and walk away from the establishment.

What a strange night.

It gets stranger still when Iruka asks him what his plans are. 

“Nothing,” Tenzou says, wide eyed and surprised.

“Oh, hmm, wanna hang out for a bit then?” Iruka asks, shrugging. “I’m just going to head home and watch television anyway.”

The keywords that Tsunade had mentioned -- Tenzou’s brain nearly goes on a proverbial aneurism because this is it! This is the solution to avoid failure! Iruka had mentioned two words that Tsunade had wanted him to do. Hang-out. Television. And if Tenzou is smart enough, maybe he can indeed rope in what the Hokage wants to achieve but seems to fail in doing so; maybe he can convince Iruka to be an Academy teacher.

“Do you want to hang out at my house? We have a new television and cable.” Tenzou offers.

“Sure!” Iruka says, quite enthusiastically, dimples dotting his cheeks. 

Or maybe that’s just a normal expression for him. Tenzou doesn’t know, his gaze lingering over the dimples.

“Hokage-sama also mentioned prior to your arrival that you’re a good mahjong player,” Tenzou says, clearing his throat. “Will you train me?”

“No problem! Do you have the tiles?” Iruka asks, and gets a head shake from Tenzou. “Then, let’s pass by my place first to get mine. Then we’ll head over to yours. Sounds good?”

“I’m okay with this plan,” Tenzou agrees.

He’s got this mission in the bag.

There is no room for failure now!

Tsunade would be _proud!_

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't with this kid. Seriously. I'm gonna end up harming myself from cuteness overdose at this rate.
> 
> Also, a wild Iruka has appeared.


	8. Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Self beta'd.

They make themselves comfortable in the living room. Iruka picks a spot on the floor, plopping himself crosslegged as he carefully unpacks the mah-jong tiles from a small wooden box. Iruka explains to him that it’s more fun to play the game when there are four players, but that they’d have to make do with just the two of them. Iruka then proceeds to explain the rules of all the different kind of tiles – Tenzou listens and memorizes the instructions. He writes down the point counts for each tile, and decides that if he wants to win, he must try to score using the tiles with bonus points, like the flower tiles or the season tiles.

Iruka explains everything carefully, going as far as giving examples of different styles of play. He is patient and slow in his explanation, always meeting Tenzou’s eyes and making sure that he is being listen to, that the words coming out of his mouth isn’t just going over Tenzou’s head. Tenzou thinks that it’s a bit of an overkill, how Iruka explains.

But it’s not necessarily a bad thing.

It’s just very thorough. Tenzou thinks that if Iruka uses the same explanation to a four year old, that child would know all about mah jong too. Maybe this is the reason the Sandaime wants him to teach at the Academy. Tenzou remembers how some of his classmates back in the day had been too slow to pick up on the most basic things. Tenzou had not been like the others. He did not have the option to be slow because he had strict instructions from Danzou to not be slow. Going to the Academy had been a formality rather than anything else. He thinks if the source material at the Academy were explained the same way Iruka had explained the rules and tricks of mah-jong, likely the curve of failed graduates would drop.

Sandaime once again is right.

Iruka is suited to be in the Acadamy.

“I understand,” Tenzou nods, when Iruka asks him if he understood everything thus far. “You are a good teacher. I will put your teachings into action when we play.”

“All right!” Iruka claps, grinning from ear to ear. “You know, I wasn’t expecting you to agree to play mah jong. Let alone want to learn the game.”

“Why?” Tenzou blinks, tilting his head in confusion.

“Eh, most of my friends don’t like the game. They say it’s for old people. I only ever get to play with the Hokage when he’s free. I tell them that it’s a great thinking and strategy game but they’re more interested in like, cards or drinking games or whatnot. So it’s nice to play with someone my own age. I’m fifteen, by the way.” Iruka says all in one breath, it seems, as he shuffles the tiles.

“I’ll be fifteen soon,” Tenzou responds. “In a month.”

“Really? Wow! When?” Iruka looks up at that.

“August ten,” Tenzou answers, his eyes drifting down to the shuffling tiles.

“That’s soon! Also, you are the first guy I’ve ever met who happens to be shorter than me and be my age! Everyone is bigger for some reason. Sandaime says that it really just is a matter of time before I catch up. I guess it’s the same for you too, huh?” Iruka shrugs.

“Okaa-san said the same thing. She said that environmental factors plays a role to growth and development,” Tenzou agrees, nodding. “Do you eat well?”

“I drink lots of milk,” Iruka sighs. “I don’t like it very much. It smells a little funny but I drink it. I think it’s a scam.”

“I did that too. I think it’s… a scam too.” Tenzou adds, finding it interesting that he and Iruka agree on a lot of things. “Okaa-san designed training and diet for me. Maybe you can ask yours to do the same?”

“My parents are dead,” Iruka says, wrinkling his nose and setting the dice aside, the words coming out a little strangled, but otherwise even. “They died in the Kyuubi attack as heroes defending the village. But maybe I can ask the old man, or something. He’s the Professor. He should know a lot about stuff like that, I guess.”

“I guess…” Tenzou murmurs, keeping his eyes on the board.

“O-Okay, we’re ready! Let’s start!” Iruka suddenly exclaims, a little louder than necessary, a little shaky for some reason.

Tenzou decides to stop asking questions about family. Maybe Iruka hasn’t moved on from the loss. It reminds Tenzou of that time when he brought up Nohara Rin to Kakashi. Iruka had the same look haunting his eyes the way Kakashi did back then.

*

They play two games and unsurprisingly, Tenzou loses.

But he learns a lot from the both matches. He will retain those moves and technique and if given the chance, he will use it against Iruka in the future. Or maybe, if he gets proficient enough, the Sandaime.

Iruka glances at the clock that reads nine-PM, blinking at it and looking back at the tiles. Tenzou knows his mission is partially complete now that he’s done the hang out and engaged in an activity part. It would be a hundred percent complete if he can get Iruka to watch television.

“Do you want to watch TV?” Tenzou asks.

“Mmm, I dunno, won’t your mom get mad? It’s a little late,” Iruka offers, his gaze darting

“I’m alone. My mother is on a mission; provided we aren’t late for any assignment the next morning, I don’t see the problem in watching TV,” Tenzou reasons, punctuating it with a shrug.

“Well, I just have to be at my team’s meeting place for training. Maybe we’ll get a mission, again. I won’t know till tomorrow. What about you?”

“I’ll be summoned if they need me,” Tenzou responds.

“Summoned? Aren’t you genin?” Iruka tilts his head.

“No, I’m jounin,” Tenzou corrects.

Iruka’s eyes go wide then they narrow suspiciously. “Liar!”

Tenzou frowns. What benefit would he even gain by lying about his rank? It’s not like he’s on an assignment. Is Iruka daft? “I’m not lying.”

“I dislike liars. So don’t be a dick. If you’re jounin, why aren’t you in uniform?” Iruka crosses his arms, challenging, tipping his chin up, as if daring Tenzou to actually lie.

“I don’t need it,” Tenzou explains, because he doesn’t need the standard issue uniform.

“Hah! So you’re not. Ugh, what is it with you people and pretending to want to be jounin? What’s wrong with being a genin? Or a chuunin? We’re still shinobi!” Iruka huffs, getting to his feet, his moves jerking with irritation.

Tenzou frowns even more. What is Iruka’s problem? “I have a vest.”

“Show me.” Iruka dares, taritly, vain-gloriously, twisting his lips. “Go on.”

Tenzou narrows his eyes, eyebrows dropping down as he goes still. He doesn’t have to prove anything to Iruka, when he’s only known him for a few hours. He has nothing to prove to this boy. Iruka isn’t in his team, they don’t go on missions together, there is no need to prove that Tenzou’s ability can match his, if not out rank his, enough in the field to get the point across that Tenzou would have his back. Iruka is a nobody. Tenzou didn’t have to go up stairs to his room, pull his closet open and take out his jounin vest that he hasn’t worn in forever. It’s probably a little small for him now.

“I have nothing to prove to you,”

“We’re just going to have to agree that you’re a liar, then, peace,” Iruka shrugs, and starts packing up his mah jong tiles.

“But I’m not lying!” Tenzou grits out. What the hell is the matter with this person? Why is he like this?

“Mmm-hmm,” Iruka rolls his eyes. “Right.”

Something about that dismissive eye roll, the way Iruka just outright denies Tenzou’s rank and ability, the lack of trust between what should be subordinates, makes the corner of Tenzou’s eye twitch. In the grand scheme of things, it wouldn’t matter a smidge if Iruka believes him or not. It wouldn’t change Tenzou’s rank, his mission success count, it certainly wouldn’t elevate him to something higher either. It won’t jeopardize his standing in Team Ro, nor will it tarnish his image to the Hokage. It certainly won’t disappoint his mother.

Or would it?

Iruka seems upset, his mood soured by the lie that isn’t a lie. Which means, Iruka won’t want to stay and watch television which means that Tenzou’s mission from Tsunade will only be partially complete.

Tenzou finds himself sucking in a slow breath, weighing his options. He didn’t give a rat’s ass if he disappoints Iruka, who may have provided assistance in the past, may be friendly and always smiling at Tenzou and good company, who even shared his special, personal ordering style at a restaurant, and has been nothing but candid and nice with him – still, it didn’t mean that Tenzou owed him a damn thing.

Not really.

Tenzou watches Iruka carefully stack the tiles in order, as he checks around the center table of their living room to make sure none of his mah jong pieces are left behind and decides, fine. For the good of the mission, sharing what is already public knowledge won’t damage anything. It’s not like he’s flashing Iruka the red mark on his arm, anyway.

“Wait here,” Tenzou mumbles, getting to his feet and padding out of the living room, ascending the stairs to his bedroom and throwing his closet open. In the far corner, on a plastic hanger, hangs his jounin vest encased in plastic. He hasn’t touched in _years_. He pulls it out, plastic covering and all and returns to the living room, where the satisfactory reaction of Iruka’s eyes building open makes him preen inwardly, just the tiniest, _tiniest_ bit. Hah. He is above lying. “There.”

“But it’s small!”

“I haven’t worn it in years, so yes, it’s small.”

“Why didn’t you ask for a replacement, then?” Iruka asks, closing the case of the mah jong tile box.

“I didn’t really need to,” Tenzou shrugs, draping the vest over the one of the sofa’s arm rest.

“Don’t you wear it?” Iruka sounds breathless with disbelief. Tenzou gives him a headshake. “That’s weird. Even the big clans who don’t wear the uniform, at the very least, wears the vest over their clothing! So unless you’re either a Hunter, or ANBU or that vest once belonged to your mom! And you’re just saying it’s yours! Which by the way, guess what, still makes you a fat liar. Dick,” Iruka huffs, crossing his arms.

Something in Tenzou pinches at the accusation, when he’s worked so hard to be what he is. When he’s endured all that training with Root, and Team Ro and now with his mother. Something about this brazen dismissal makes something in him snap.

“You’re so hell bent in finding faults in me, what about you? Why are you still genin? Don’t you train?” Tenzou counters.

“I train!” Iruka retorts defensively. “And yes, I’m genin. You don’t see me hiding that fact!”

“You’re judging me based on my size, aren’t you?” Tenzou challenges. “Just because we’re the same age, and you’re but two and half centimeters taller, you think I didn’t earn my rank.”

“I – I didn’t say that,” Iruka shakily responds, taking a step back.

“You implied it with your words, your accusations and calling me a liar when I have stated repeatedly that I am not lying. I have shown you proof as per your conditions. You asked to see my vest. There it is,” Tenzou points out, tipping his chin towards the vest on the sofa. “Why do you insist on labelling me with something that isn’t true? Is that vest not proof enough?”

Iruka goes silent, his fingers pinching into his arms as he keeps them tightly crossed across his chest. “I just find it hard to believe…”

“Why?” Tenzou asks, truly wanting to know the answer.

“Because yes, you’re smaller than me. And it’s wrong of me to judge you like that. I apologize. Please forgive me, I really didn’t mean to,” Iruka mutters, looking off to the side, eyebrows pinched tightly together, a flush upon his cheeks.

The apology seems to ease the tension. It placates the knot in Tenzou’s gut as he nods slowly and exhales softly. “I accept your apology.”

“I guess I should go…” Iruka mutters, unfolding his arms. “I’m sorry, Tenzou-kun. I – I really didn’t mean to hurt you or upset you.”

“You don’t want to watch tv?” Tenzou blinks, confused now. He had thought that the hurdle about rank was preventing them from moving on with the list of activities he should accomplish. He didn’t really care about his feelings. He doesn’t feel anything about his rank. Iruka apologized for accusing him and that had been resolved.

“Oh – well – I just thought – I mean, I upset you, didn’t I?” Iruka asks, chewing on his lower lip, the flush deepening on his cheeks.

“No.” Tenzou frowns. “You didn’t.”

“But, just now, weren’t you…” Iruka looks confused, as he brings a hand up to rub the back of his head, the look of puzzlement making lines on his face appear.

Tenzou shrugs. “Tv?”

“Okay…” Iruka agrees, albeit a little hesitantly. “Did you have something in mind?”

“No, I’ll let you decide what to watch,” Tenzou says, handing Iruka the remote.

Iruka fiddles with the buttons, the screen of the fifty-inch television coming to life as he goes through the cable channel list. He spots something in the program previews and starts to bounce just a little excitedly on the sofa. “Oh, oh! The House of the Three Rings trilogy! Have you seen that? It’s about wizards and elves and oh – it’s so great! It was in the movies three years ago but I never got to see it! I still can’t afford to rent a copy either, not after paying rent! But this is great! Do you want to watch it? Have you seen it?”

Tenzou has never heard of the The House of Three Rings. He’s never seen anything that had wizards or elves in it, if one did not count commercials and trailers. It seems like a good start to learn about this new film genre so he nods.

“Let’s watch it.”

  
*

By the time the clock strikes three-forty AM, the credits begins to roll on the television at the end of the final sequeal in the trilogy. What an amazing trilogy. An amazing film. Tenzou thinks he will tell Kakashi about it, suggest he sees it too. It’s got the right amount of drama, the perfect balance of amazing sword fighting techniques that looks pretty realistic to kenjutsu, amazing hand to hand combat and underlying love story between the king of men and a beautiful elf. Tenzou thinks he may just re-watch it again, maybe with Tsunade.

He turns to give Iruka his thanks for suggesting the trilogy.

Only to find Iruka fast asleep, curled up against the sofa cushion, lips parted and dead to the world. Tenzou blinks at the sight, wondering when exactly did Iruka fall asleep? Why had he not sensed it? Had he been so immersed with the television that he did not notice his surroundings?

Well that just won’t do.

Tenzou pokes Iruka on the shoulder, hoping to jostle him away so he can go home. Iruka makes a noise of complaint and turns to tuck his face further into the couch cushion. Another poke only gets Tenzou a grunt, followed by silence and an unmoving body.

Sighing, Tenzou turns off the television and grabs the throw from the edge of the sofa. He covers Iruka with it before commandeering the single seater sofa, sitting with his back straight, arms crossed and tipping his chin down for a quick nap. He’s still hyperaware while resting and catching some shut eye. He’d know if Iruka shifts or moves.

*

Tenzou _jolts_ from his sleep when he hears _squawk_.

He is greeted by the sight of Iruka pushing himself off the couch, only to lose his balance and crash against the floor. It leaves Tenzou flinching, as Iruka pops back up like a gopher, looking around him, his hair a mess and ponytail loose, something he pulls off completely as he scrubs his hands down his face.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, sensei is going to kill me!” Iruka panics, flushed and eyes wide.

“Iruka—“

“Why didn’t you wake me up to go home?” Iruka asks, pointing a finger at Tenzou.

“But I did!” Tenzou retorts, just a little sharply. “You were the one sleeping like the dead!”

“Like the dead – _I don’t sleep like the dead!”_ Iruka snaps, threading his hands through his hair and giving it a sharp pull.

“Then move your ass and get to the training ground if you’re so late?” Tenzou offers, as he stands up from his chair.

“Wow, way to state the obvious, genius!” Iruka grouches, grabbing his hair and gathering it all up to a tight, need ponytail. He then proceeds to scrub the morning stars from his eyes with his fingers, then sniff under his under arms.

“How is this any of my fault?” Tenzou challenges. No, really, why is he being accused again?

“I don’t have time to go home and return my tiles – you better not lose my tiles! I’ll make you pay for it! I’ll come back for it this afternoon! There better be not a single tile missing, or else!” Iruka says, marching down the hallway towards the genkan where he proceeds to put his shoes on.

“You can just—“

“—bye! Thanks for letting me stay I guess. I’ll pass by tonight to get my tiles!” Iruka cuts Tenzou off, throws the door open bolts out without looking behind him, leaving Tenzou standing there, like he’s no more than a potted plant by the genkan, staring at Iruka’s retreating back.

*

That afternoon, after Tenzou completes his training and finishes reading half of the medical reference book he had started the previous day, he bumps into Kakashi in the middle of Tea Avenue while debating on what he should procure for sustenance.

Kakashi is the one who approaches him. Tenzou had been staring at the glass display of plastic models of food of an izakaya, calculating the approximate caloric value of what he should order.

“Late lunch?” Kakashi asks, his eyes creasing into a disarming crescent.

“Senpai!” Tenzou turns, suddenly quite pleased to see Kakashi. He had a lot of things he wants to ask, a lot of things he wants to confirms; does he find Kakashi attractive, was Kakashi ever accused of being liar for his rank, does he want to come to his house to hangout, does he know how to play mah jong, has he tried Ichiraku ramen – there’s so many to put across.

“Mmm, missed me?” Kakashi grins, straightening from where he had bent over a little bit to be in Tenzou’s line of sight.

“When did you get back? They’d said you’d be gone for a while,” Tenzou asks.

“So you did miss me~” Kakashi sing songs, smartly avoiding the question. Tenzou translates that as a mission not being favourable. Kakashi only ever does that if his mission doesn’t turn out with good results. Or if he ends up massacaring an entire village of innocents. Either or. “Buy me lunch.”

“Okay,” Tenzou agrees and points the window. “Help yourself.”

*

Tenzou ends up with a bowl of curry-rice, omurice, teriyaki beef slices and a bowl of sauted mixed vegetables with tofu. It’s a little more than what he usually orders. It’s all over Kakashi’s masked face just how surprised he is by the amount of food Tenzou has before him. Food that Tenzou begins to eat bowl after bowl mechanically, wordlessly, only setting his chopsticks down once the caloric intake ticks as complete in his head.

He pops two pills into his mouth from the container he carries around in his utility pack and then proceeds to unwrap the supplement bar Tsunade had been so strict about.

“Was the food not enough?” Kakashi asks, setting his chopsticks down, his bowl of grilled fish and rice empty.

“Okaa-san has me on a special eating program,” Tenzou reasons, one cheek puffed up as he swallows what he had bitten off. “It was hard to eat this much at first, but I’m getting used to it.”

“Ahh, is that so?” Kakashi deadpans. “So you’re getting a long with your mom?”

“Mmm, she’s nice,” Tenzou shrugs. “She’s training me now too. She’s got me reading up on iryo ninjutsu. Once I nail the theory, she says practical application will start,” Tenzou adds.

“That’s really good. It’ll be really useful,” Kakashi nods. “Tsunade-hime is a good person to learn from. Do your best, hmm?”

“Thanks, senpai,” Tenzou murmurs, finishing off the bar and crumpling the wrapper, dumping it into one of the empty food bowls on the table. “Senpai, do you hang out?”

“Hang out?”

“Like at people’s houses,” Tenzou explains.

Kakashi smirks, snorting a little bit. “Sure I hang out. At people’s houses.”

“Do you find it fun?” Tenzou tilts his head to one side.

“Of course, it’s fun. What can I say? ‘Hanging out’ at people’s houses always leaves me… relaxed.” Kakashi leans back on his chair, crossing his arms.

“Do you want to hang out at my house?” Tenzou asks.

That makes Kakashi’s eyebrows go up. “Me?”

“I mean, I have a few questions to ask you. I need to determine a few things and that will require you pulling your mask down so I can observe. Is that a problem?”

“What exactly do you need to determine that requires me to pull my mask down?” Kakashi sounds confused, his eyebrows knitting.

“I need to understand if I am attracted to you,” Tenzou says, blinking and watching Kakashi’s cheek dust with a bit of pink, shock making him jerk back just the slightest bit.

“Uhh…” Kakashi reaches up, rubbing the back of his head. He brings that hand down and looks at Tenzou closely, his eyebrows knitting together, something flashing over the surface of his gaze. “Are you fucking with me, Tenzou?”

“No, senpai, I am not,” Tenzou states. Why the hell would he fuck with Kakashi? He isn’t Iruka who would throw out baseless and purposeless statements.

“Is this important to you?” Kakashi asks, crossing his arms across his chest, a question that Tenzou nods to. “Fine. Let’s hang out at your house.”

“Thank you, senpai,” Tenzou says, unable to stop his lips from twitching up in a relieved, if not pleased smile.

  
TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi is a dirty eighteen-going-on-nineteen year old. Horn dog.
> 
> Also, Iruka is... is. I don't know. 
> 
> That movie title is some BS I made up. Pretend that it's Lord of the Rings lmao.


	9. Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Self-beta'd - might have missed stuff.

**KAKAYAMA KISSING AND WHATNOT. I'd like to remind people that Kakashi is 18 going on 19 and Tenzou is 14 going on 15 in a month or so (this is set in summer so August is just around the corner). So you've been warned.**

Kakashi makes himself comfortable on the edge of the three seater sofa, legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles under the coffee table, an arm looping around the arm rest as he takes stalk of the clean and orderly living room. His mask remains in its place, face tucked and hidden, as he hums and nods in what Tenzou understands to be appreciation, if not a little impressed.

“This beats the barracks,” Kakashi dead pans, eyes drifting towards the glass windows, staring at the garden beyond. “I’m guessing you took care of everything, mostly, huh?”

“Okaa-san had some ideas about the house. She did however let me do whatever I wanted with the garden,” Tenzou responds, his eyes momentarily trailing towards the kitchen. Normally, people offer their guests something to drink. Tenzou had all the etiquette training he may need for undercover purposes thanks to Danzou; he had not offered Iruka anything during his stay the previous night, practically forgetting to do so. He didn’t want to do the same with Kakashi. “Senpai, would you like something to drink?”

“Hmm, what do you have?” Kakashi turns to look at Tenzou, his gaze unreadable.

“Juice? Water?” Tenzou offers, and then adds. “Tea? Instant coffee?”

Kakashi snorts. “I don’t suppose you have anything stronger, do you?”

“Okaa-san keeps chilled sake and shochu,” Tenzou responds after a moment, punctuating that with a one shouldered shrug. “Do you want that, senpai?”

Kakashi huffs a bit of a laugh. “Tea is fine, Tenzou.”

“Okay, I’ll be back. You can… relax, I guess,”

“Oh I’m relaxing,” Kakashi murmurs, a little oddly, tilting his head back against the sofa, craning his neck to the ceiling.

Tenzou blinks at the delivery but says nothing more, taking Kakashi’s word before he makes himself scarce. He takes out a pair of tea cups, boils the water, and spends exactly three minutes watching the tea bag steep properly. Stir it a few times to get the flavor right, Tsunade advised sometime during the first few days they began to live together. Tenzou does just that, sets everything on a small serving tray and pads to the living room. He is careful when he sets the tray down.

“Your tea, senpai,” Tenzou says, setting the tray aside before

“Thanks,” Kakashi drolls, sparing the tea cup nothing more than a glance before he adjusts his composure on the sofa, leaning on the corner and folding a leg under him. He stares at Tenzou for a few minutes in silence, while Tenzou himself nurses his own cup of tea. It’s after Tenzou’s second sip does Kakashi finally put the question out. “What’s this all about Tenzou?”

“Okaa-san was upset that you kissed me when I mentioned that to her,”

Kakashi’s eyes bulges wide open, a bit of pink dusting over his cheeks. “You told your mom that I kissed you?” He asks, looking shocked.

The intensity of the question makes Tenzou recoil just by a centimeter. It also makes him realize that perhaps Kakashi didn’t want that part of him being shared to anyone, not even his own mother. It is a private matter, after all, kissing that is. Tenzou frowns. He should have had the foresignt to foresee and know that, at least. “I’m sorry senpai, I didn’t think it was a bad thing to do…”

“It’s not –“ Kakashi snaps his mouth shut, running fingers through his hair in what looks like frustration that only serves to fuel Tenzou’s guilt. He did not mean to disappoint Kakashi this way. “--I mean, why were you even discussing that to begin with?”

“She asked me if I liked anybody, and further elaborated the question by asking if I found anyone attractive. I told her that she’s attractive and she rephrased the question by asking me, for example, if I found you attractive,” Tenzou explains, finding himself standing up rigid and straight as he does so.

Kakashi goes very quiet for a while, his chest expanding once with a long, deep breath before he sighs. “Okay, and how did you respond to that?”

Tenzou shrugged. “I told her the truth. I told her that you’re not disfigured.”

Kakashi _rolls_ his eyes. “Wow, thanks, kouhai, really appreciate it,” Kakashi mutters, the words coming out with a bit of a exasperated huff.

“She wasn’t satisfied with that response and asked if I found you cute,” Tenzou adds, then pauses, tilting his head. “I don’t think you’re cute, senpai. You’re not a small animal. Your features are too sharp, angular even. Cute is not the word I would choose to associate you with.”

“And what word would _you_ associate me with, Tenzou?” Kakashi _sighs_ , craning his head back to stare at the ceiling, as if he’d get more logic and understanding from there rather than the human being seated on the sofa with him.

“Attractive.” Tenzou shrugs. “Like the men in the magazine covers.”

That makes Kakashi go still and quiet for a long while. He hums a little bit, shifting only to lean forward with his elbows on his knees, tugging the mask down and picking up the tea cup for a sip. “So you do find me attractive. Like the men in magazine covers…”

“I feel like I’m missing something,” Tenzou admits, watching Kakashi move, his eyes tracing the lines of the sharp jaw and cut of the scar on Kakashi’s upper lip. He takes in the slope of his neck, the lines of Kakashi’s strong, lean back, the broadness of it compared to his own, how powerful Kakashi looks like when he’s merely just drinking tea. Kakashi pretends to be lazy. But one would have to be an idiot to take that at face value.

“Maa, Tenzou, most of the time, when people find others attractive, there’s usually some sort of feelings involved,” Kakashi explains looking over the rim of the tea cup pointedly at Tenzou. “I mean, look at me and tell me if you want me to fuck you or kiss you.”

Tenzou _stares_.

He’s never, not once since meeting Kakashi, ever thought of him that way.

They shared one kiss and that had been it. It had done nothing for Tenzou, not biologically anyway. And now Kakashi is asking if he’s ever thought of getting fucked by him. The question makes the breath hitch in Tenzou’s throat, partial shock, partial discomfort, partial uncertainty. He’s not sure what the right answer to something like that should be, because the truth is, he’s just never thought about it. Not Kakashi or anyone. By definition, Kakashi is attractive. Looking at him, Tenzou tries to navigate in his mind how acknowledging that Kakashi is attractive would equate to wanting to get fucked by him.

Or fuck him, even.

Tenzou reaches up to rub the back of his head. He isn’t an idiot. He’s aware of the mechanics of heterosexual relations and homosexual relations. Root may have been strict but these things were common amongst their agents. Some did it earlier, some did later, it had been nothing but a need to take care of, biology, essentially. Tenzou had not been interested in anyone then, and truth be told, no one was interested in a miniscule, skinny, underfed looking _child_ either.

Tenzou knows he’s not the kind people find attractive.

He’s too small, too bony, too young for the older ANBU – maybe now it’d be different with Root, but ANBU? No one would spare him a second look.

Except Kakashi, apparently.

Tenzou rubs his head again.

It’s a good thing Kakashi agreed to come today. Tenzou can finally clarify all these questions and just put a rest to everything.

Tenzou decides that he owes Kakashi the truth. He has no reason to hide and be dishonest with Kakashi.

“I never thought about you that way, senpai,” Tenzou admits, something that might have been frustration coiling somewhere in his gut. He hated being uncertain. Uncertain means gambling with the unknown and more often that not, statistically, there’s a low chance of success rate if one doesn’t have all their facts.

“But you categorize me as attractive and you want to know if you truly find me attractive,” Kakashi says, cocking an eyebrow. “Did I get that right?”

“I think so,” Tenzou mutters, frowning a little bit. “Is that odd, senpai? Am I odd?”

“You’re not odd, you’re just…” Kakashi sucks in a breath, exhaling with a little bit of exasperation before he straightens up and shakes his head. “Look, Tenzou, I had sex the first time a month before I turned fourteen. It wasn’t exactly the best experience, and I wouldn’t wish that kind of experience upon you, or anyone. But in my experience, the best way to know if you’re attracted to someone is to just feel.”

“Feel…”

“Feel.” Kakashi repeats. “I already told you I like you. I’d fuck you in a heartbeat. I find you very, very attractive.”

Tenzou’s frown deepens. What part of him did Kakashi even find attractive? Was it his head of healthy hair? Because Tenzou looks too small, too petite. He looks nothing like Rat who is tall, and lean, and very skilled with the long sword. Rat who has sharp features too, almost like Kakashi, golden hair and eyes the color of the sky. Tenzou certainly looks nothing like Wasp, because Wasp is broad, his fists strong, his grin wide and roguish, framed by a well kept dark goatie that he is most proud of. Tenzou is nothing like those men. He probably isn’t as endowed as those men if that’s something Kakashi likes.

“But why?”

“I just do,” Kakashi shrugs. “Take it or leave it. I also trust you, I know you, so those two things make you even more attractive to me. Hence, why, I say, I’d fuck you in a heartbeat.”

Tenzou twitches, a bit of heat spreading over his cheeks. “I’m not like Rat or Wasp.”

“No, no you’re not. And you want to know something even more shocking?” Kakashi sets his tea cup down and leans over, his gaze dark, something sharp lingering in the dark gray depths. “You’re a whole lot more _beautiful_ than they are. Or anyone else on the force.”

“I am not a girl!” Tenzou retorts, a little hotly.

“No, no you are not,” Kakashi pointedly says, reaching out and snapping a hand over Tenzou’s wrist. “Doesn’t make you less beautiful though. Like I said, I just find you very attractive.”

“Senpai, do you like – do you imagine fucking me or something?” Tenzou manages to ask, despite his chest threatening to burst with the embarrassment that seems intent on suffocating him on the spot.

“What if I did?” Kakashi challenges, making the flush on Tenzou’s cheeks deep to a dark crimson. “What if I imagine it often? How does that make you feel?”

“Thanks, I guess?” Tenzou mutters, turning his gaze away, swallowing past the thick wad of whatever-the-fuck in his throat. “I don’t know, senpai, it’s a little embarrassing.”

“You ashamed of me?” Kakashi asks, tilting his head to one side.

“No! Why would I be?” Tenzou’s eyes widens. Being ashamed of Kakashi is the farthest thing from his mind or list, or anything. There is nothing to be ashamed of when it comes to Kakashi.

“Then?” Kakashi waits, crossing his arms across his middle.

“I just – I mean, Kakashi-senpai, you are the man I respect the most. There is no reason for me to ever be ashamed of you. I am proud of you. And grateful to you. You are inclusive and consider my opinion and feedback. We work well together and you treat me well. I can’t say the same for everyone else on ANBU but I can say all that about you,” Tenzou answers. “I just – I mean, this is what I am trying to understand. Is it odd for someone to define a person as attractive but not feel anything towards them? I am not an idiot. I do not get an erection when I think about you or your face.”

“Wow, way to hammer down on someone’s ego, Tenzou, good job.” Kakashi ducks all of a sudden, defeated, but not at all sounding upset. If anything, he sounds a touch amused/

“S-Senpai—“ Tenzou brings a hand up to his face, frustration getting the better of him that he brings the heels of his palms to his eyesockets, before scrubbing them down his face. “Maybe if you kissed me again.”

“Tenzou, if you want me to kiss you, just tell me. You don’t have to dress it all up like a case study,” Kakashi deadpans, rolling his eyes.

“That’s not what I’m doing.” Tenzou shifts, crossing the distance between them and sitting a little closer. “Go on. Kiss me again like last time. Maye if it gets prolonged this time around, I can get an erection and that way, I can conclude that I am indeed attracted to you.”

“You’re really fired up about this, aren’t you?” Kakashi leans backwards, grabbing Tenzou by his shoulders and holding him at arm’s length. “Calm down, would you? This isn’t –“

“You scared?” Tenzou taunts. “Scared that I might like you back?”

Kakashi goes still, twitching at the audacity of Tenzou’s taunt. “Are you serious?”

“You had no issues kissing me a few days ago; what’s wrong now?” Tenzou frowns, and then it hits him. Maybe Kakashi is lying about everything. Maybe he’s just saying things to make Tenzou feel better because Kakashi is a good guy that way. Maybe he really does like people who look like Rat and Wasp. Tenzou recoils like he’s been burned, backing up on the other end of the sofa, only stopping when Kakashi’s hand snaps on his wrist, yanking him forward, his other calloused hand coming up to cup Tenzou’s cheek.

“Hold still,” Kakashi murmurs, leans forward and slants his mouth over Tenzou’s.

It’s exactly as it was before, just slower. It doesn’t make it any less wet, or sticky, or heated. Kakashi’s hand on Tenzou’s cheek trails down slowly, dancing upon the curve of Tenzou’s neck, where the tips of Kakashi’s fingers starts to caress the fine hairs at the base of Tenzou’s nape. That makes him shudder all of a sudden, goosebumps breaking across the length of Tenzou’s back and arms. It makes his breath come out staggered, shaky, his mouth encouraged to pry open by Kakashi’s tongue, who then proceeds to tug Tenzou forward, his other hand coming to rest on Tenzou’s hip, guiding his body to straddle Kakashi’s lap, as Kakashi leans back on the sofa, his neck and head pillowed by the backrest and sofa cushions, as drags Tenzou down towards his mouth.

They kiss for much longer, Tenzou following the strokes of Kakashi’s tongue, heat gathering somewhere in his stomach in an odd and very foreign way. Kakashi’s other hand remains on his hip, bunching the fabric in his palm, rubbing at the bone and muscle before it sneaks under hemline of Tenzou’s shirt, hot, scarred fingers pressing against the flat, hardened muscles of Tenzou’s stomach. That makes Tenzou jump, jolting a little bit backwards, panting for breath as he looks down at Kakashi smirking up at him.

It is in that moment that Tenzou realizes how _loud_ he’s being, how his breath is coming out of him in erratic puffs, his heart drumming under his ribcage, as he sits there, completely all over Kakashi’s lap, his legs parted, heat festering in his abdomen, spreading all over his face and neck – all this while Kakashi simply looks relaxed, unbothered, not even flushed or breathless.

The smirk widens to a bit of a lopsided smile.

Tenzou stares at Kakashi, at that smile that isn’t ugly, but isn’t cute either. It’s just… attractive.

Kakashi also doesn’t have dimples.

“Senpai, you don’t have dimples,” Tenzou points out.

“No,” Kakashi agrees, the smile broadening. “I don’t.”

Tenzou never noticed before.

He shifts in his position, unintentionally grinding forward against Kakashi’s groin. Something that Kakashi firmly puts a stop to with the hand on Tenzou’s hip, the grip almost bruising as Kakashi tilts his head in warning. Tenzou follows Kakashi’s gaze downwards, towards the appearance of what looks like Tenzou’s first conscious erection. It’s nothing like what he wakes up to in the morning. It’s not as flaccid, or semi-hard. Tenzou frowns at it, wondering when did that happen? Was it when Kakashi had a hand on his stomach?

“S-Sorry…” Tenzou mutters.

“Don’t be.” Kakashi says, his words soft. “Want me to take care of that?”

Curiosity makes Tenzou hesitate. It makes him wonder if Kakashi would put his face between his legs like he did with Rat. Tenzou swallows, deciding that it is too much. He shakes his head, pushing himself off Kakashi who doesn’t let him go yet.

“Tenzou,” Kakashi says, his voice a little strangled. “You know you can trust me right?”

“Yes, senpai,” Tenzou agrees, nodding. There's no reason for him to not trust Kakashi. It goes without saying.

“So even with something like this, I hope you understand that if you ever need anything, you can come to me, okay?” Kakashi offers. “I’d rather you come to me than anyone else who may not keep your best interest in mind, hmm?”

“Thank you, senpai, I’ll—“ Tenzou swallows, slowly sliding off Kakashi when his grip loosens. “I’ll remember that.”

“Good.” Kakashi nods.

Tenzou dips his head politely, excusing himself to the bathroom where he proceeds to sit on the lid of the toilet, wraps a fist around his arousal and proceeds to efficiently take care of it. He comes at the idea of Kakashi’s hand pressing on his stomach, and somewhere at the back of his mind, oddly enough, a pair of dimples and a toothy smile.

*

Tenzou concludes that he is attracted to Kakashi.

He tells Kakashi as much as they finish the rest of their tea in peace, which leaves Kakashi snorting and shaking his head in amusement. Otherwise, Kakashi says nothing else.

With that out of the way, Tenzou proceeds to ask Kakashi if he’s ever played mah jong and if he’s ever had a very special off-the-menu ramen from Ichiraku. When Kakashi answers no, Tenzou begins to tells him all about it.

Kakashi pays attention to him, his mask remaining down and gaze focused on Tenzou as Tenzou proceeds to list in detail the way Kakashi should order his ramen next time, followed by the rules of mah jong that he had memorized the previous night.

All in all, Tenzou thinks he’s had a very productive afternoon.

He’s managed to secure two hangouts in the space of twenty-four hours. Not bad.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I keep working on this fic, I realize Tenzou hates being smol. He has issues with being smol. It's a hot button. Body image issues because, well poor thing was an experiment and I've always head-canoned that it stumped his growth compared to most. But we all know he becomes the hottest daddy ever anyway.
> 
> Also, Tenzou knows/understands sex. Theoretically. Practically. How to take care of things. But he doesn't KNOW KNOWS sex, if that makes sense.
> 
> Also, Kakashi is a good bro.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to yell at me or come say hi/yell at tumblr: pinkcatharsis


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